The Game
by Vicki So
Summary: Play the game. That’s all Zuko had to do. He already knew he had the skill to win. Then the prizes would be his...all of them. A Zutara capture fic of a different colour! The sequel to Bent and the Ho'Wan Island Carnival! COMPLETE.
1. Chapter 1

**Welcome to _The Game_, the "third" and final installment to my first-season Zutara "trilogy."**

**This is the sequel to _Bent _and _The Ho'Wan Island Carnival_, so if you haven't read those, please do, otherwise little in this story will make sense. Canonically speaking, this story takes place a few weeks after "The Deserter."**

**_Captured! The Zutara Musical_ was based on a parody of this story, really, so some of the parts have admittedly been taken straight from there. Not because I'm lazy, but because Fate has a funny way of making things happen.  
**

**It's been a long time in the making, mostly because I've been working on several other fics at the same time, so my apologies to everyone who's been waiting since last year for this.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Avatar. If I did, the series would have way too much Zutara to stomach.  
**

**But you didn't come here to read A/Ns, so without further ado... **

* * *

**THE GAME  
**

* * *

**Part One**

* * *

"Just as each nation's benders utilize different defensive and offensive tactics to vanquish their enemies and seize their quarry, so do the creatures of the wondrously diverse animal kingdom. One of the most fascinating beasts I've ever encountered, however, is the wily chameleon-fox. 

"The sleek and powerful chameleon-fox is one of nature's most distinctive predators mainly because of its unique habit of fixating on its prey. Once a fox has singled out a particular creature for its next meal, it will pursue it until either it is caught and consumed, or the fox expires from starvation. Such single-mindedness has made the chameleon-fox both an endangered animal, as well as a revered and respected one, especially in the Fire Nation, where this behaviour is considered to be mirroring Agni's Codes of Honor _(see appendix XII, vi)_. As a result, chameleon-foxes have been deemed sacred in the Fire Nation, and no one may hunt them. To do so would constitute sacrilege and the penalty for poaching one is death. (Note: Fire Lord Ozai is rumoured to possess a cloak made entirely of chameleon-fox fur. Hearsay claims it lines his throne in the palace to show the people Agni favours his bloodline.)

"Perhaps what is most interesting about these handsome but utterly flawed mammals is its ability to adapt its hunting tactics. Not only have I observed a lone chameleon-fox track down and chase its prey for miles beyond its own territory over the course of several weeks, but I have also witnessed it collaborate with other foxes (which is unusual for this fiercely independent and lonesome animal) and I have even witnessed it set traps.

"Such complex thinking patterns coupled with the practical ability to devise and bait an effective snare would seem to indicate a higher intelligence in the chameleon-fox. (the fabrication and use of tools has been observed in other animals after all—_See appendix IV, xiii_) However, the fox entirely lacks the ability to foresee complications, thus a change in circumstances will not usually result in a victory for the fox. On occasion, such traps draw worthier kill, but the chameleon-fox, so bent on its quarry, will ignore them in favour of its meal of choice…."

Excerpt from _"Observations of the hunting habits of the chameleon-fox", _(unpublished)by Professor Emeritus Zei, Ba Sing Se University.

* * *

**Chapter One**

* * *

Sokka brought his arm down, smashing Katara's soft shoulder with his elbow. She cried out as she hit the cold, wet, grey sand. 

Eyes watering, the Waterbender rubbed the spot between her shoulder and neck where her brother's blow had connected, wincing at the throbbing ache. The young Water Tribe warrior helped his sister to her feet, shouting, "Katara, you were supposed to roll!"

"Well, how am I supposed to roll with you standing in my way?" she yelled back angrily, shoving him hard.

"Good! Fight back!" Sokka urged, eyes ablaze. Instantly, Katara's anger dissipated and was replaced by confusion.

"Huh? What are you...Sokka, why are you doing this?" she whined in exasperation, but the boy lunged in another offensive attack. This time, instead of ducking, the Waterbender grabbed a huge snake of water from the ocean and sent the force of the coiled torrent straight down onto her brother, forcing him flat onto his front.

He pulled himself up off the ground quickly, his sand-covered tongue lolling out his mouth. He spat and wiped the organ off as best as he could while severely admonishing his younger sister.

"Kah-ta-ah, yah nah sah-posd to uth wah ending!" He grabbed the canteen and rinsed his mouth out repeatedly, spitting grainy water out.

"You were going to attack me!" Katara argued. "What, I'm just supposed to let you hit me again?"

"The whole point of me training you to fight hand-to-hand was so you wouldn't have to rely solely on your bending." Sokka wiped his mouth on his sleeve. "You won't always have that ability—what if you break your arm, or you get tied up?" Sokka turned away, dripping. Katara pursed her lips. She had no intention of pointing out to him—yet again—that if she were in either of those positions, she would be unable to fight regardless of what she knew. He put his hands on his hips, scowling. "Twenty push ups. Now."

"What?" Katara yelped.

"Twenty-five." Sokka said evenly.

Katara's face went dark with rage, but she refused to let her big bossy brother add any more to the penalty. She would do as she was told because she had agreed it was a good idea when Sokka had proposed it.

* * *

"We all need to get in shape," he had said one night, several days after they had stopped at that strange island where the benders had lost their powers. "All this time traveling on Appa's back is making us soft." 

Aang and Katara both cocked eyebrows at the young man. "Would you prefer we walk to the North Pole?" Katara needled. "Maybe your instincts have something to say about that?"

Sokka shot his sister a look that shut her up. He was deadly serious. He had looked just like their father did when he was disciplining them.

"Look, we can't rely on luck and bending anymore. Not only do we have Zuko after us, but now this Zhao guy, as well, and frankly, I don't know which is worse. I mean, who knows who else will be after us? It won't be long before those wanted posters will have pictures of Katara and me, too," he said.

Katara shuddered. The notices they had seen of Aang outside the Fire Days festival a week or so ago had chilled all three of them to the bone.

Sokka turned to his sister. "We're not always near water, and you need to be able to defend yourself in case…" He trailed off, looking away. "I just want to make sure that you'll be able to protect yourself. That you'll fight back and fight hard if something happens."

It had been a grim and sobering conversation. Katara didn't really understand where this concern had suddenly come from. Sokka seemed to have aged ten years over the last few days. Since their narrow escape from Zhao, he had become more paranoid than ever, insisting she and Aang both stay hidden while he went into town alone to collect supplies for their trip. He made sure they did not stop unnecessarily. He had even stopped complaining about his hunger, letting his loud stomach gurgles speak for him instead.

"What exactly do you expect us to do?" Aang asked, and the Water boy explained it simply. Exercise, lots of strength training, and finally, fighting practice.

Aang shook his head at this.

"It sounds like a good idea, but really, I only fight to protect and defend," he explained a little sheepishly. "I may be the Avatar, but I'm a monk, too. I fight to help save myself and others, and bending is the least harmful way I can do that. I don't go around punching people; I resolve conflict, not cause it. I won't hurt anyone who doesn't deserve it," he said resolutely.

Katara thought she heard her brother mutter something about Zuko, but she let it pass.

With a little more persuasion, Katara and Aang both agreed to train. In their spare time after they set up camp, Sokka would make them run laps along a strip of beach, do sit-ups and push-ups, and lift and carry heavy rocks from one place to another, all without bending. Sokka was especially focused on his sister's development, designing trials to make her stronger, increase her endurance, or make her more flexible or agile. Aang worked mostly on his upper body strength—for some reason, he was bent on having pythons for arms, but to his dismay, all he could manage on his scrawny 13-year-old body were a couple of lumpy pricklesnakes.

Sokka did not lie idle, either. He led by example, and did all the exercises along with them. He dearly wished they all had more to eat, as the workout routines left them famished, but he did not complain, and chose to forage for as much protein as he could find rather than give up on this vital physical training.

He didn't tell either of his companions, but there had been a few nights he'd made stew with grubs he'd collected from under some rocks, passing them off as berries or roots in. Aang, being a vegetarian, probably wouldn't have eaten the creatures, and Katara would have screamed and dropped the precious protein-filled meal. But Sokka knew they all needed it if they wanted to get stronger and stay that way. He closed his eyes and tried very hard not to think about how the fat white bugs wriggled, swallowing the stew down as quickly as he could without tasting it. The others made no comment about the meal. Katara just seemed happy not to be the one cooking for once.

And so time passed this way for what felt like weeks. Every night, Katara would go to bed sore and exhausted, but she felt herself getting stronger, and her tiny muscles slowly began to take form in her willowy body. Despite her hunger, she woke up every morning with more energy, and felt her moods lift with the sun.

It had all been fun and games until Sokka started teaching her how to spar. While Aang ran back and forth along the beach, deciding against the sparring lessons and saving his energy for bending practice, Sokka showed Katara how to make every blow count, and how to spot where attacks would come from and block them with quick and effective ripostes. He tried to get her to throw a few roundhouse punches, but they were so feeble, Sokka decided to focus on other ways she might cause some damage.

So he started to teach her how to fight dirty. Eye gouging, hair pulling, windpipe crushing—Sokka showed her every low blow he could think of. She'd protested irately at first: she wasn't weak, wasn't afraid of a little hard work. She wanted to fight the way the boys in her village learned how to fight, the way her brother fought. Just because she was a girl didn't make her less capable.

But it did. It wasn't chauvinism, Sokka explained patiently. And Katara realized he was right: she was at a huge disadvantage because of her relative size and undeveloped body. She couldn't even beat Aang in an arm wrestle! She had to learn how to "fight like a girl," as Sokka put it. That way, if she ever got into a situation where she had to fight with all she had, she would fight will ALL she had.

"You're a girl—a guy is going to expect you to fight dirty," Sokka said simply. "So make sure you hit 'em where it hurts and then get away as fast as you can, understand?"

Then the training got hard. Sokka began actively participating in their sparring lessons. Up until then, he had simply pointed at the different vulnerable parts of his body and made her lightly strike them so she knew where they were, then go through various offensive and defensive forms. Now he was her opponent, and he was not being easy on her. When she complained of his treatment, he would look at her coldly and order her to do a set of push ups as punishment. She only complied because she wanted to prove she could do it, that she was not as weak as everyone seemed to think. Her brother was right, of course, and she couldn't allow herself to become dependent on bending. But it did not stop her from being cross with Sokka.

So here she was, face down in the cold, wet sand, dripping sweat, fuming and making the nearby surf heave and splash loudly as each push up worsened her simmering mood.

* * *

All this the Avatar watched with great trepidation. But he did not interfere. He knew why Sokka was being so hard on his little sister, even though he did not fully understand it. 

Sokka himself was silently thankful that the young boy kept his counsel. Ever since the cursed island, Aang had stayed away from the topic of the Fire Prince. The night after they had narrowly escaped from Zuko, Sokka had taken him aside while Katara was asleep and told him why he had lied to her about everything that had happened.

He explained how it would only frighten and confuse Katara if he told his sister about how she had been possessed by the centuries-old spirit of a Waterbending Avatar name Karanna, and how she had taken a centuries-dead Firebender named Zuko for a lover. He would especially NOT tell his sister about how she had kissed the contemporary Prince Zuko during her possession. And he definitely would not reveal his deepest suspicions about the Fire Nation prince's feelings for his sister to either of his companions.

Sokka hated lying to his sister. He could see her watching him thoughtfully, as though peering into his brain for the missing answers, searching for the pieces of the puzzle, the forgotten night on the strange island. And Sokka was a terrible liar.

But he did it for her. He had promised his father he'd protect her. Even from herself.

Would Dad have done the same? he asked himself at night as they turned into their sleeping bags. No reply ever came.

It was true—Sokka had aged on the inside. The cursed island had changed him, made him see that some things were more important than others. He'd realized it the moment he chose to save his sister over the Avatar and knew it was the wrong choice. He knew there was something much more important than either his promise to his father, or his sister's life.

That was why he had to do this. That was why he had to make sure Katara would be okay on her own.

They were ready, he decided sombrely. It was time to have the big talk.

"Katara, I want to talk to you about something," he said quietly as she got up from her push-ups.

* * *

"No!" Aang shouted. 

"Aang, you have to stop the comet and save the world. Mastering the elements is the only way you can do that, and you'd have an easier time of it if you didn't have us tagging along with you everywhere," Sokka said.

Katara stared at her hands. Her brother sounded so cold, so callous.

"I won't leave you behind!" Aang yelled.

"Listen, we're not going to leave you in the middle of the night or anything," Sokka explained. "We're with you right to the end. But if the Fire Nation catches us, or we get in a tight spot, I don't want anyone to have any leverage against you. We're not going to be bait for a trap, understand?"

Katara peeked up at the young monk's face. He looked hurt, torn between the logic of Sokka's argument and his attachment to the Water Tribe children. They were a family, the only family Aang had now that the Air Nomads had perished and the Water children's parents were gone. She wanted nothing more than to go to him, comfort him and promise never to leave his side.

But she knew Sokka was right. There had been too many close calls, too many opportunities when the Fire Nation could have locked them all away. Their most recent encounter with Zhao reminded them of just how dangerous their situation was. Thus far, only incredible luck had spared them, but one day, their luck would run out.

Sokka pinned the little monk with a devastating look. "Promise you'll leave us behind if we get caught," he said firmly.

"NO!" Aang shouted, jumping to his feet. "How could you even think I'd let the Fire Nation just keep you locked up? Who knows what they could do to you!"

"I'm willing to take that chance," Sokka said sternly. He kept his eyes trained on Aang. "Once they realize we're not important to you anymore, they'll let us go."

"Or they'll forget about you and leave you to die in some dungeon, or they'll send you to the coal mines, or worse! No Sokka, that's final, I'm not going to give up on either of you. Never!"

Sokka sighed and washed his face with his palms, moaning a little. "Katara."

She got up and took both the 13-year-old's hands in hers, squeezing them, looking into his blazing grey eyes imploringly.

"Aang, there's no way around it. You're the Avatar. You have to learn the elements and you have to stop the Fire Lord when Sozin's comet arrives. If we get captured, you can free us after you've defeated him. Even if we were captured tomorrow, we'd only be stuck for a few months…and that's not long. We'd be okay. But you have to end the war. You have to stop Ozai."

The boy bowed his head, the anger on his face melting into despair. "I don't know if I can stop him..." he whispered. "Not without you guys."

Katara put her fingers under his chin and tipped his face up, a watery smile riplling her features. "You will. I know you will." She placed a tender kiss on the blue arrow tattoo on his brow.

It did little to cheer Aang up, though. The siblings were right about his duty as the Avatar, of course. He had even considered leaving them in the safety of the Northern Water Tribe to pursue his destiny, keeping them out of harm's way.

But he was only 13 and the last of his kind. All he had left of his people were Appa and Momo. But the Airbenders weren't his people anymore, not really. Sokka and Katara were. They were his family. Katara had said so herself.

Being part of a family meant the world to him.

Didn't it mean something to them?


	2. Chapter 2

* * *

**Chapter Two**

* * *

"Get away! Go on, shoo!" 

The helmsman was frantically waving off a large crow perched on the ledge of the window just outside of the Navigation room. The bird seemed almost amused by his antics, and continued to preen itself disdainfully to spite him.

Lieutenant Jee grunted in disgust and deftly shot a fireball at the avian intruder. The crow let out an indignant cry and flapped away, but not before dropping off a messy white package to go with the more pristine one Prince Zuko had retrieved at their last port of call.

"Well, aren't you going to open it?" His uncle Iroh peered over his shoulder at the box. It was about the size of a folded Pai-Sho board, expertly wrapped in thick parchment and red silk ribbon and sealed with the royal family's wax emblem. A small card was attached. It read simply, "To Zuko, Happy Birthday, With Love."

It had been waiting for him in port since his birthday several weeks ago. Whoever had sent it had known where he was in the world, and this did not sit well with the banished prince.

_There are spies among us_, he thought darkly as he continued to stare at the box. It could be anything, from poisoned insects (he shuddered at this thought), to a harmless pair of mittens. The only reason he'd delayed opening it for so long was so that if there was something alive in there, it would hopefully be dead by now.

Who would send him a present? His seventeenth birthday had passed without celebration or incident…mostly. And only a few people knew his exact natal date: Iroh, for one, and his father, and a handful of other members of the court, none of whom cared to associate with the exiled heir to the throne. His father sure as hell wouldn't send him a birthday gift. So who…?

Zuko wrinkled his nose in disgust. He picked up the package and threw it out the door so it landed out on the observation deck, angrily hurling a fireball at the paper box.

The package exploded in hot orange, magenta, and gold sparks and flames, crackling and hissing loudly. The paper had been lined with gunpowder. It was the cruel prank of someone who knew he was into the habit of unwrapping his gifts with a little burst of fire. Someone he knew all too well.

"Azula," he growled.

As the fire died down and the blackened bits of paper drifted away, Zuko grabbed up the shining objects inside, now slightly blackened and rainbowed with oxidization. He inspected the metal plaque tooled with his sister's very own etched handwriting:

"To my DEAREST brother Zuzu,

Thought you might need this in your hunt for the Avatar.

Please come home soon.

Love Azula."

He looked down at the silver-wrought object, most likely made by his prodigiously multi-talented sister, as well.

It was decorative little butterfly net. The netting itself was made of fine silver chain attached to a perfectly made hoop. The handle had a long, sinewy dragon coiled around it. It couldn't be used for anything, it was purely ornamental, something one might mount on the wall.

"From Azula? How sweet of her to remember your birthday," Iroh rumbled.

"She's mocking me," Zuko spat. He dashed the gifts onto the deck and stomped back through the Nav room, grey smoke curling up from his clenched fists. He slammed the heavy door behind him as he exited.

Iroh watched him tramp away, sighed, and retrieved the two precious items from the deck, wiping the soot off with his sleeve. One day, perhaps, he would be able to give them back, and his nephew would thank him for preserving the memories, no matter how bitter and painful they were.

Was this the fate of the entire royal family, to be constantly at each other's throats or in cool standing at court? Would he and Zuko and their kin simply become people who were only tolerated because of their bloodline?

"Problems with Prince Zuko?" Jee asked flatly, sidling up to the old man. Iroh told him about Azula's little surprise and groaned wearily. "I don't know what to do about her sometimes. She's Zuko's sister. They should be getting along, they should feel love for each other…"

Jee kept a straight face. "You've never gotten along well with Fire Lord Ozai," he pointed out dourly.

"I did once, or so I thought." They walked across the deck, staring out at the ocean. "Azula is truly her father's daughter."

"And that doesn't sit well with you," Jee concluded. Their talk was bordering on treason, but the lieutenant seemed unfazed about it. He had his own private beefs with the royals, hashed out with the retired general over cups of sake shared in the boiler room late at night. Between them, it wasn't considered treason to speak the truth.

But right now, so close to a Fire Nation-occupied port, neither of them dared to speak further on the topic. Sound carried over water, after all. Jee returned to his duties, leaving Iroh to his thoughts.

The old man sighed. Above all things, family was most important. He rarely let it show, but he was bitter and angry with Ozai for all he had inflicted upon Zuko. Yes, there were definitely some things you couldn't forgive family members for. But Ozai was his brother, and the Fire Lord. He could not stop loving him as his blood, but he didn't have to like him one bit.

Zuko and Azula, however, were different. True, the younger daughter was a prodigy in all she took to task, but it was wrong of Ozai to favour her so. Her superior airs and nasty attitude didn't help, either, but Iroh wanted to believe Zuko only hated her because she had everything he did not—and that was in no small part because of his father's despicable parenting and outward displays of favouritism for the younger child.

Of course, Azula had never been much of the angel child Zuko had once been, and had been spoiled rotten from her conception, but for now, he'd give the girl the benefit of the doubt. Iroh was confident that one day, when the siblings were older and could see their father's faults, perhaps they would understand.

One day, Iroh prayed, brother and sister would stop feuding.

The retired general heard a loud crash come from Zuko's room, followed by a string of muffled curses.

Okay, maybe not.

* * *

_Why does she have to rub it into my face all the time?_ Zuko overturned his dining table, letting the tea set that had been perched on it crash and spill all over the floor. He issued forth a string of all the worst words he'd ever heard the sailors use, then felt better. 

Nothing quite like a tantrum to relieve stress, he thought bitterly. He sighed, assessing the damage he had done, and began picking up the pieces of the broken teapot.

Why did he let Azula get to him? Even out here, hundreds of miles away from home, she had to taunt him, was compelled to throw his banishment in his face. Why? What had he done to deserve her scorn? She was father's favourite, after all. Was it because he would get the throne? If it weren't the only thing he had going for him, he sometimes thought it'd be easier to let her have it.

He thought about the other repercussions of the gift. At the forefront of his mind was the fact that someone was keeping tabs on him. He had known most of his men for the better part of two years now—surely none of them were playing double agent? Uncle Iroh might be keeping correspondences with members of the court: Was it possible his messages were being intercepted?

A shock rocketed through him as he realized that he was gripping the broken pieces of pottery fiercely. Blood ran down his fingers from several deep slices. He relaxed his handhold and tossed the shards into the waste bin, picking out tiny slivers of terra cotta before wrapping a towel around his bleeding hand.

He left his room to seek out the ship's doctor. He would poke around and find out how Azula was tracking him, but right now he had more important things to think about aside from his bratty sister. The Avatar was close, and if his latest plan to capture him was going to succeed, he would need to focus.

The comfortable place in his mind he reserved for hunting the Avatar opened and welcomed him, like home, as he refocused his energy on catching the little monk. He'd been tailing him for weeks since their last encounter on that strange island that had robbed him of his bending abilities. To his great dismay, he'd lost their trail for a few days, as they cut across the land. Taking the ship to the Northern shores of the Earth Kingdom, knowing the Avatar would eventually emerge and head to the Northern Water Tribe, he'd bided his time, formulating his latest and greatest plan to ensnare the travellers.

It had to work. Once the little monk arrived within the fortress of the Northern Water Tribe, there was no telling how long he'd be there, or how much more powerful he'd get if he mastered Waterbending.

The very thought of Waterbending brought to mind images of _her._ He swallowed dryly and refocused. That would come later. The Avatar—his honour—came first.

This plan would work. It had to.

High above, a flock of black birds circled the Fire Nation boat, watching.

* * *

"You're sure of this?" 

The grey-haired woman in rags nodded silently. The large, black bird perching on her shoulder stared back at the Fire Nation commander with bright, defiant eyes.

The commander made some notes on a roll of parchment and removed a small satchel of coins from his desk drawer, tossing it to her. She caught it neatly and frowned at its weight.

"You're short three gold pieces," she said evenly and tossed the satchel back without opening it. "You know my price."

The commander scoffed and stroked his pointed beard. "My good lady," he drawled. "The Fire Nation must keep its war machine going. Surely you can spare your share of the taxes."

"I'll pay my taxes at the end of the bloody war when you're all deep in the cold earth," she growled. "But until then, you pay me what is mine."

"Insolent witch!" The commander hurled a fireball at the woman. She dodged his attack and before he or the guards standing outside the tent could react, she was standing behind him, gripping him by his topknot, the point of a rusty dagger pressed against his throat.

"If it was not for the _kindness_ of the princess, I would slit you ear from ear right now," she hissed. She drew the dagger's edge along his throat for emphasis, leaving a thin, dusty line of ruddy rust along the scratch.

The woman reached around him and opened the desk drawer, the dagger still digging into his neck, and snatched a purse twice the size of her pay. She hefted it under the commander's nose. "Hmm. Better. We'll call it advanced payment."

"You won't get away from this you filthy hermit," the commander snarled. She wrenched him down again, bending his spine uncomfortably backwards as she pressed her blade deeper into his flesh. He made a strangled noise.

"What? You think you can kill me? Who then would you have keep track of the exiled one? You?" Her hot breath reeked of meat and decay. "Your princess would be most upset by that. And think of what her father would say!" She let out a mock whimper and cackled.

The troops standing at the tent entrance burst in just in time to see their commander being held hostage. They quavered. They hated it when this mad old witch came stomping through their camp with her uncanny birds. The woman's familiar, a huge black crow, perched on the tent rafters, eyeing the two soldiers disdainfully. As if to prove its feelings toward the Fire Nation, it shat on the map splayed out on the table, its white mess splattering all over the Fire Nation islands.

"I'll keep your princess happy with information about her dear brother's whereabouts. You keep your men off my land and give me my dues. And don't try anything funny. My eyes are everywhere," she whispered in his ear.

And in a flurry of rags and fur, she slit a hole in the back of the tent and leapt out, slipping silently into the darkening woods with the big black bird soaring in her wake.


	3. Chapter 3

* * *

**Chapter Three**

* * *

"Ugh. Bounty hunters." Lieutenant Jee muttered. 

They were docked in a Fire Nation-occupied Earth Kingdom township. The town held little strategic or economic value, and its denizens were mostly transients, fisherman, lumberjacks, and salty old sailors en route to larger cities, but it had been annexed because it had been easy to take.

Being such backwater port, the Fire Nation commander in charge of the occupation welcomed any diversion from the long, grey days of watching the fish haulers, and that included entertaining the exiled prince and the esteemed Dragon of the West. He welcomed the royal duo into the harbour, and personally ensured they were well stocked and that repairs were made a priority. But he was disheartened when the two declined his offer for dinner, as they had a great deal of business to take care of, they said.

Though the Fire Nation's presence in the tiny town was evident, the port remained the perfect place to find the criminal element looking for work. Zuko had gone out with Iroh the night before to the taverns and openly invited a dozen or so shifty looking characters aboard his ship to hear his business proposition.

"A bagful of gold to the man who captures the Water Tribe girl called Katara of the Southern Water Tribe," he declared. "I want her alive, unharmed, and unspoiled." He stepped up to one particularly nasty-looking, squinty-eyed man. "No defiling."

"As you wish," the man intoned with a shrug.

Iroh stepped up behind his nephew and spoke lowly to him. "Zuko, why offer a whole bag of gold for the girl alone? Why not offer two bags for the Avatar himself?"

He whirled. "Shh. News of the bounty on the Avatar's head hasn't reached this town. If they all knew, they'd be after him in a flash and hauling the child back to my father. The Avatar is _mine_ to capture," the prince growled. "Besides, do you really think these lowlifes have the means to catch the Master of the Elements? No, a little girl is about all they can handle."

"And you're not going to try and capture her yourself because...?"

"A fisherman doesn't dig for his own worms," Zuko sneered. "Grubbing in the dirt for bait is better left to the experts."

Iroh made a noise in his throat. He wasn't sure he liked the tone his nephew was using in reference to the Water Tribe girl, especially knowing what he knew about his nephew. It was one thing to refer to her as "peasant"—another thing entirely to call her "worm."

But at least the teen wasn't brooding anymore. The prince had resumed his normal behaviour, stomping around the ship, bellowing orders to his crew, blasting fire at anything that upset him, chasing a 13-year-old boy to the ends of the earth...things teenage princes usually do when they've been scarred and exiled by their father.

Zuko began to describe the girl and her companions with as little reference to the Avatar as possible. "She travels with her brother and a small bald monk, about 12 years old, on a giant flying bison. According to reports, they've been spotted in the area. They prefer to camp in the evenings..." Zuko rattled off a bunch of statistics, and described the water girl in fine detail. Iroh thought the prince nearly waxed poetic about her, something he thought the rough boy was incapable of. He hid a smile behind his wide sleeve.

The bounty hunters looked bored. One of them mouthed the words "runaway girlfriend." Zuko glared at the offender briefly before dismissing the motley crew. The bounty hunters left. Some of them seemed to take the business seriously, but others simply walked away, uninterested. Capturing a little girl would have been easy, certainly, but the retired general heard many of them dismiss the mission as suicide, and began muttering things about these particular woods and a certain "She" who lived in them. Their disinterest entirely escaped Zuko's notice, however.

"We're one step closer to regaining my honour, Uncle," Zuko said, his gold eyes ablaze. "One step closer to home."

Iroh was beginning to wonder if that was really all his nephew wanted in life.

* * *

"Sokka? Can I talk to you a minute?" 

The Water Tribe boy gave his sister a cursory glance and put on his most innocent face. "Sure Katara. Help me carry some of this firewood, would'ya?"

The Waterbender obediently followed along as Sokka loaded her arms with dry pieces of kindling—a real feat to find in these damp and perpetually foggy hills. "I just want to say that I think you're right about everything—making sure Aang can make it on his own without us and all. But…"

"But what?" He kept scanning the ground, avoiding her eyes.

"Well… I'm worried. About Zuko."

Sokka stiffened but kept moving. "What about him?"

"He's…persistent. We've seen just how crazy he gets when it comes to Aang. And…well…I just don't think he'll give up on him, even if he has us."

Sokka's hands tightened into fists. "Yeah. I know."

Katara stayed silent a long moment, studying her brother's reactions as he continued to not look at her. "Sokka," she asked finally. "Tell me what happened on the island."

He didn't miss a beat and answered her evenly. "I told you. You and Aang succumbed to the island's curse. Aang snapped out of it and we broke the curse by appeasing the ghost of Avatar Karanna."

"You're not telling me something," Katara stated plainly. She'd had enough of this tiptoeing around the subject. She wanted to know what had really happened, and why she'd been feeling so strange lately. Why her dreams were leaving weird impressions on her. Why every time she thought about Zuko, something inside of her twisted.

"There's nothing more to tell. It was a bad night and we almost lost you." Sokka turned, glowering at his little sister. "Why can't you just leave it alone?"

"Zuko was on that island, too," Katara went on. "Taking a bath in this so-called 'cursed' water. So why wasn't he affected?" Her cheeks went a little red at the memory, but she plowed on, undaunted.

"I don't know! Maybe it's a Firebender thing!" Sokka threw his hands up in exasperation. "Why don't you just go and _ask_ him?"

Katara looked pained. Sokka sighed, feeling his anguish drain away.

"Look…I'm sorry, okay? It's just…you almost died, Katara. I'm supposed to protect you, just like Dad told me to, and I failed. I won't let it happen again, ever. But you and I both know that Aang has to come first. He has a mission."

"I know." Katara hugged herself for warmth. She sighed. "Please Sokka. I know when you're hiding something, and I can see it's eating you up inside. Whatever it is, we can deal with it together. Just… Please. I need to know the truth."

The young warrior gave his sister a long, agonizing look. He would have liked to tell her, just to get this pain—this weight—off his chest. But he couldn't heap his fears onto her. It wasn't fair or prudent. "We should get back to camp. It's getting dark."

He marched staunchly away.

* * *

Momo and Appa could sense the cloud hanging above the trio's heads. They were both keenly aware of Aang's moods, and knew that if he wasn't smiling, something was wrong. The flying lemur, normally sympathetic, affectionate, and attention-seeking, stayed curled up on the bison's warm, fluffy paw. The nights were getting colder the further north they headed. 

Aang, Sokka and Katara picked at their thin grub stew in the chilly twilight, sobered by their earlier discussions and promise to run away if any of them were captured. It wasn't as though they were planning to separate, but the gravity of their decision pressed heavily in their hearts. They'd just been through so much together, it was as if they'd always been a family. It was as if every second was their last together, and they couldn't stand to say anything for fear of saying something stupid during these precious moments.

Sokka stirred the gruel around his bowl and let it flow in thin waterfalls from his spoon. "Boy, I sure miss blubbered seal jerky," he groaned suddenly. He looked up from his bowl into the two startled faces. "What?" The corner of his mouth tugged upward.

Aang chuckled. Katara smiled into her palm and soon the three were laughing loudly. Levity returned. The darkness melted away as they joked and laughed and talked about all the things they missed with nostalgic wonder.

"I miss oranges!"

"I miss snow!"

"I miss Airball!"

"I miss Gran-Gran!"

"I bet you miss Haru," Sokka egged his sister. Aang's jaw dropped but it turned into a wide-mouthed grin.

Katara merely smirked. "Well, I bet you miss Suki!"

Aang guffawed. Sokka went red in the face and he chucked a pebble at his sister playfully. They all laughed.

"That reminds me…" Sokka put his meal down and rummaged deep in his pack. He removed a fat bundle of clothing, rich green silk and plates of lightweight leather armour, which, though lovingly wrapped together with twine, were wrinkled and oddly shaped, having been sitting on the bottom of the water boy's bag for a while.

"Here. You should have this." He handed it to his sister, who unfolded it quizzically.

"Hey! That's the dress you wore on Kyoshi Island!" Aang exclaimed. Sokka shot him an irritated look.

"It's a warrior's outfit. And armour," he explained. "I was training in it back at Kyoshi and never got to return it after the Fire Nation attacked. It should fit you, Katara."

"Wow," Katara unfurled the robes and smoothed them over herself and held up the armour. "It's so light!"

"It won't protect against much, but it's better than nothing." Sokka said with a smile. His sister looked up at him gratefully.

"I'm going to try this on!" Katara put her bowl down and dashed into the bushes. A few minutes later, she emerged, wearing the green and brown outfit. "Ta-dah! How does it look?"

The boys smiled. It wasn't her colour, but it fit well, and made her look rather impressive. Larger. Almost intimidating, except for the silly grin plastered to her face.

The water boy nodded his approval and wondered if the face paint would have looked as good on his sister as it had on Suki. It was a shame he had thrown away the ceremonial headband, though. The fans would have been a nice touch, too.

Sokka's thoughts turned to Suki, and how formidable the warriors of Kyoshi were. He remembered how he had barged in on their "dance practice" and had felt the energy emanating from the young women. He could almost see the graceful power auras behind the fans and the simple, sweeping movements of their bodies. They had true warrior spirits, and had taken down Prince Zuko's men efficiently. He considered it a boon that he got to keep the traditional warrior's outfit to pass down to his sister. He wanted Katara to look and feel just as strong and beautiful as the Kyoshians. He wanted her to have confidence e in herself. Most of all, he wanted her to kick ass.

He watched, his heart swelling with pride at seeing how much his sister had grown and matured in their short time traveling with Aang, as she tightened the leather cuffs around her arms.

Katara spread her feet in a defensive stance and smirked as she raised her tiny fists. "Come and get me, Zuko!" She laughed.

Sokka flinched.

"You look great!" Aang said. "Even I want to spar with you now!"

That got a laugh and the three settled down to finish their meal.

* * *

Little did they know, a pair of eyes was squinting at them from high above. 

The brain connected to the eyes ticked off items in a mental checklist.

_A giant bison with an arrow on its head: check. _

_A little bald monk: check. _

_A flying lemur…ah, there it is: check. _

_And two companions in blue…_

He hesitated. It was quite dark, and his eyesight wasn't as good as it used to be. But after a few minutes of watching, he decided the other two moving about the campsite _had_ to be the Water Tribe children the scarred young Firebender had described.

…_Check!_

The man darted from his place in the shadows and slowly crept down the cliff for a better place to watch the trio from, keeping his ears trained on the sounds around him. He remained wary of his surroundings, and knew that most of the other bounty hunters wouldn't set foot in the woods for fear of the witch who lived in them. But the opportunity had been too good to pass up.

He knew this would probably be his final job, and he wanted to savour every moment of his art. The catlike slink he once moved with was now stiff and arthritic, but he was still fast, quiet and patient. Hunters needed to be all three, and in a few short years, he would not have any of these three qualities.

A bag of gold would buy the aging bounty hunter some nice things he would need to enjoy his retirement: a little fishing boat, some good ale, and maybe a little female company on cold nights. Yes, this would be his last job.

He watched as the three young travelers settled down for the night. The giant bison lumbered away to graze. Within minutes of snuggling into their sleeping bags, the children fell asleep.

"All too easy," he murmured under his breath. The old bounty hunter removed a rag and a bottle of clear liquid from his pocket, readjusted the ropes around his shoulders, and quietly tiptoed up to the group to collect his ward.


	4. Chapter 4

* * *

**Chapter Four**

* * *

Zuko meditated. The day had been a productive one, but still, he felt restless. Sleep, at least, came more easily these days, but every night, as he lay awake, he thought about her. 

The blue eyes that had once haunted him day and night had eluded his memory for a while now. He couldn't remember the name of that particular shade of blue; all he knew was that they were a spectacularly beautiful shade and he wanted nothing more than to have her look upon him the way she had so long ago, it seemed, when he was just a simple teen walking around a carnival.

Of course he'd never admit that to anyone else. Not out loud.

A shiver passed through him as he remembered his last encounter with the Water girl. That peculiar, dreamlike night on the cursed island had nearly undone him as he watched Katara lie sleeping on the ground, blissfully unaware of the Firebender bent over her. He would give anything to convince himself that his surging lust was due to the island's weird effect on benders, but he had known it was his own body's weakness that had made him act the way he had.

The days immediately following that incident had Zuko roiling in his own heated vehemence. He drove the crew with great fervour, urging them on across the sea in pursuit of their prey which he was absolutely convinced was just around the next corner. Frustratingly, though he thought about her nightly, the prince did not dream about the Waterbender as he had before, though she did star in some of his more lurid waking fantasies.

But as the days turned to weeks and no sign of the flying bison arose, Zuko cooled. He went back to a normal routine of training and meditating, patiently and assuredly waiting for the Avatar to reappear, stopping in port towns and making the usual inquiries. The crew became tense: when the Fire prince wasn't shouting orders and being a brat, he brooded, and that was usually worse.

In that time, the exiled Firebender engaged himself with deeply analytical musings, giving his newfound obsession with Katara a tentative backbone of logic.

He reasoned: He was a teenager, and hadn't had much regular female company since he'd been banished. Of course, his personal experience with girls as an adolescent was limited and not particularly pleasant, but he chose to ignore that fact. In any case, Katara was the most regular contact he had with the opposite sex. She was beautiful and as fiery-tempered as any Fire Nation girl he'd ever met. So he told himself easily that he was acting like any teen would act, only he was no ordinary teen—he was a prince. And princes got whatever they wanted.

Right now, capturing the Avatar was at the top of Zuko's wish list. Katara would just be a bonus.

Despite this conclusion—which had to be the right one—Zuko felt just a bit guilty about his plan to use the Water girl as bait to lure the little monk onto his ship. He did his best to dismiss those feelings as nervous, eager anticipation. But he wrestled with himself, struggling between the self-assurance that Katara's presence would rid him of his confounding feelings once and for all, and the overwhelming urge to latch on to her and never let go.

There were nights he berated himself for losing focus, for being incapable of disciplining his mind and body against the peasant girl. But as much as he tried to redirect his energies on catching the Avatar, his mind inevitably shifted to the Waterbender. It just came so naturally, and slippery logic continued to feed and rationalize his obsession. Katara was with the Avatar. The monk obviously had some attachment to her. He could leverage that, and enjoy the fringe benefits of having the pretty girl aboard for his pleasure…

The young Firebender replayed the moment he'd awaken from his near-death experience, his lips locked with Katara's. The pure fire that had flooded his senses at that moment was something he could not recreate or even fully remember. He had blacked out shortly after their lips had parted, and the next thing he knew he was awkwardly slung across the shoulders of the Water Tribe boy as he ferried him back to his camp. That boy would pay for the insult one day.

But oh, that kiss! He knew it wasn't really her, though: he hadn't put all the pieces together, but the Water girl would not simply kiss him without reason. Those soft lips, the taste of her sweet tongue gently running against his, the way her hands had gripped his shoulders...

Zuko felt a lump form in his throat. A ball of heat fluttered below his stomach, and he closed his eyes as though in pain.

He wanted to feel her again. To be with her again. And he would, soon enough. His bones sang, a deep-seated, content humming as he felt his plan coalesce. Every minute that crept by wound a coil of anticipation within him, until he felt like he would burst from his skin to cover the Water girl in kisses…

A knock on the door broke him from his heated reverie.

"Prince Zuko, one of the bounty hunters has returned with a prisoner."

_What? Already?_ Zuko was startled, feeling a warmth flush in his cheeks. He hadn't expected any of the lowlifes to be so industrious, and he certainly wasn't expecting Katara's arrival to be that same day. Of course, it was well past midnight now, so technically it was already tomorrow…

He realized he was stalling.

He dismissed the guard and told him to call his uncle to the main deck to meet their new "guest" while he donned a shirt. He mused with wolfish glee that could have gone out topless to unnerve the girl, but he settled for a simple red tunic instead.

He checked himself in the rarely-used mirror quickly before stepping out.

The smirk on his face grew wide as the chill evening air brushed his skin. Torches cast a hazy, golden light over the tableau below. Several of the night watch soldiers stood around the bounty hunter, the squinty-eyed one he had addressed directly that same afternoon. A body covered in a burlap sack sat on the ground, wriggling ineffectually. Zuko kept his eye on the prize as he descended the stair. His Uncle Iroh met him at the bottom.

"Well, aren't you a clever one?" Zuko sneered at the bounty hunter. "And where did you find her, exactly?"

"That'll cost you extra," the bounty hunter said flatly. Zuko narrowed his yellow eyes, but gestured to his uncle to pay the man, plus the extra. Iroh tossed the man two heavy pouches, which the ruffian barely caught and fumbled—it seemed he had terrible depth perception.

"You'll find the others in a copse of trees and rocks, about five miles northwest of here, at the foot of the cliffs," he grunted.

Under his voice, Iroh barely heard him mutter: "But don't say I didn't warn you about those hills."

Not having heard the comment himself, the prince immediately ordered the helmsman to prepare to move out and drop anchor short of the Avatar's campsite. He turned back to the writhing form in the burlap sack, smiling darkly.

At last, he had the key to the Avatar. Soon, the boy would come to rescue his companion, and the prince would finally capture the last Airbender and be welcomed home to the Fire Nation by his father.

Azula would have a conniption, he thought, his eyes glittering as he pictured her exploding on the spot.

Looking down at the wriggling bundle, Zuko reminded himself sternly that having Katara to himself and on his turf was only secondary to his mission. Even so, his stomach tightened, and he suddenly felt at a loss as to what to do with his hands, so he clasped them behind his back. A hundred and one ways to win her over formed in his mind, but he pushed them away to savour his first taste of victory.

"Well, it looks like your idiot brother and the Avatar aren't as strong or as clever as they thought. They couldn't even keep you safe from me," Zuko hissed from behind the bound figure, letting his voice ooze over her neck. The sack struggled and made some squeaking noises…

…Only they were too baritone to be coming from a girl. Then the prince noticed the package seemed to be a bit bigger than it ought to be. The smile on his face fell away.

"Wait a minute..." He shot a small flame at the ties cinching the burlap sack shut and roughly pulled the bag up off the captive. The body emerged as awkwardly as a newborn komodo-rhino and rolled over onto its side.

Sokka stared back angrily at the Fire Prince, his wide blue eyes lit with pure malice. He was gagged, his ankles and wrists bound with fine ropes. He made strangled, shouting sounds through the piece of cloth in his mouth, but they clearly translated into _I'm going to kill you!_

Zuko stared.

"YOU GOT THE WRONG HOSTAGE, YOU FOOL!" he whirled on the bounty hunter, who was peering closely at a gold coin from the bag. Though the young Firebender's fists were aflame, the squinting man did not seem too concerned.

"Eh? Did I now?" He continued to inspect the coin.

"It's not even a girl! You caught her _brother!_" Zuko screamed pointing accusingly at Sokka. "Don't you know the difference?"

"Seein' as you told me 'no defiling', how could I possibly tell in the dark?" The man answered simply. "Besides, my eyesight ain't what it used to be. I spotted someone just as you described them: turquoise robes, auburn hair, ice blue eyes, skin the colour of—"

"ENOUGH!" Zuko bellowed. He hadn't even realized he had used those particular descriptors: thank the gods for the dark hiding his blush.

Sokka glared at the prince. If looks could kill, Zuko's ashes would be six feet under the salted earth right now.

"Just take your money and get off my ship!" he barked at the squinting goon. "We can still use this…this _useless cretin_ for the same purpose. But now we'll have to fight against two benders instead of one."

That last part sounded like an afterthought, and it was. Zuko needed to justify capturing the Water Tribe girl—instead of this stupid ass of a non-bender—to himself if not to his uncle or his troops. He could see Uncle Iroh trying very hard to hide a smile in the darkness. Did he suspect something?

With a shrug, the bounty hunter slid away into the night while the troops herded the Water Tribe boy into the ship's lower levels to be locked up in the brig. Zuko let out an enraged snarl as he kicked a nearby bucket, sending a stream of fire up with his heel.

Denied again! Well, at least the boy was out of sight for now. Though he posed no threat to him, the prince was strangely unnerved by Katara's older brother.

Then he remembered vividly what the Water Tribe warrior had said to him when they last parted ways.

_Stay away from my sister. _

That was a threat, if ever he'd heard one. But he was Zuko's prisoner now. And he had a load of payback in store for the Water boy after all the humiliation he had endured.

Oh yes, this could get interesting.

But for now, Zuko had work to do. He could play later…when he had the Avatar _and _Katara.

* * *

Aang and Katara searched the woods for Sokka all morning, calling his name and getting no response save the echoes floating back to them on the morning mist. When they had awakened to discover Sokka missing, they assumed he was off doing his business. But when he didn't promptly return for breakfast, they began to worry. 

"I checked the woods. No sign of him," Aang said as they reconvened.

"He wasn't by the beach, either," Katara said worriedly. She had slept in the Kyoshian battle dress her brother had given her the night before sans the leather armour, and was still wearing it. The extra layer was light and kept her quite warm against the chill mountain air.

"His pack's still here, and all the food's here, too," Aang noted.

Katara furrowed her brow. It was not like Sokka to leave camp without packing at least an apple. And a handful of nuts. And some strips of meat. And a hunk of bread. And…

"Something's wrong." Katara concluded.

"Look at this," Aang stooped to inspect the Water boy's vacant sleeping bag more closely. The leather thong and bone fasteners that kept it snugly closed were ripped, as though someone had roughly torn the bag open. A wet spot on the fur near the opening caught Katara's eye. She gingerly touched it, but it was not moist. It was an odd stain, not from drool, but from something that had blended the blue dye of the bag with the white trim. She sniffed it and gagged.

"Ether," she coughed and grimaced. Her stomach churned at the conclusion she drew. "I think Sokka was kidnapped right out of his bag."

"And check this out," Aang held up a sprig of a plant he'd found by the fire pit; the short needles of the little branch were a deep russet colour, flecked with grey. "I've seen this before when I lived in the Southern Air Temple. It's spotted red pine. When you burn it, it gives off a smoke that makes you sleepy. That's probably why we didn't hear anyone come into our camp. We were too deeply asleep." The young monk stood and flicked the sprig away. "Who would do this? What has Sokka done to anyone?"

Katara frowned and looked into the little monk's face. Wasn't it obvious? Had he already forgotten last night's conversation about how all kinds of people could try to take advantage of the Avatar's companions to get to the Avatar himself?

As if he read her mind, the little monk's face fell. "Oh."

"It's not your fault Aang. I don't know what's going on, but Sokka knew something like this was bound to happen. We all did." She shifted uncomfortably.

"But if they used spotted red pine, why didn't they just kidnap me instead? I mean, I'm right here!"

"I don't know…" Katara said slowly. "But I can't think of any other reason Sokka would have been taken."

"You don't think he's… testing us, do you?" Aang asked quietly.

"Who, Zuko?" she asked a little distantly.

"Huh?" Aang cocked his head at this, misunderstanding. He hadn't even thought this was the prince's doing—Zuko wouldn't trek all this way to catch Sokka alone, not when the Avatar was sleeping right next to him. This hadn't been the first time she had mentioned the Firebender seemingly without context, either, and it struck the monk as a little suspect.

"No, not Zuko—Sokka. I mean, is it possible he ran off in the night to test us?" The young Avatar looked down guiltily, but they both knew the answer to that question was no. While he was very much a practical joker, Sokka would not pull anything so crude, especially given their situation. Three kids trying to save the world from a power-mad Fire Lord didn't really have time for pranks.

Katara silently stood on a shelf of rock jutting from the camp, staring at the horizon through the trees. A blanket of melancholy descended upon her, and she suddenly felt very alone in the world. The last of her blood kin had disappeared into the cold, swirling mists of the night, and shortly, she realized she would have to give up the last of her broken family.

An icy chill trickled into her soul as she inhaled a sharp bracing breath, her mind spinning. She knew what had to happen. She refused to cry.

She began to put the Kyoshian armour on over the dark green robes with numb hands. The weight of the leather wrist guards and chest plate Sokka had carried on his back for so long suddenly felt burdensome, though they were light and quite manageable. She laced up the forearm cuffs and smoothed her hands over the leather breastplate.

"Let's pack up," she said quietly.

"What? Aren't we going to look for him?" Aang asked as Katara stooped to roll up her brother's empty sleeping bag.

She said nothing as she gathered their belongings. Appa appeared, trundling out of the woods with Momo perched on his head. They seemed to sense something was wrong, and made their respective animal noises in worry.

"Katara? Why aren't you saying anything? We have to go find Sokka!" The Airbender was almost shouting at her, but her thoughts churned loudly in her head as she thought back on what Sokka had told her yesterday.

_The mission comes first. Aang has to master the elements if he's going to save the world. We can't put ourselves above his mission. That means we all have to make sacrifices. They'll be worth it if he can save us all. _

"Katara, c'mon! I bet we can spot him if we jump onto Appa's back and…"

Katara whipped around to face the boy before her. She stared into those wide grey eyes.

"No, Aang. We're not going to find Sokka." She said evenly as she slung her pack onto her back, her sleeping bag rolled up under the flap awkwardly. "I am."

Aang blanched. The realization hit him square in the chest. She was abandoning him.

"No!" Aang cried out. "NO!" Tears welled in his great big eyes. He clenched his fists. "Don't leave me alone, Katara!"

The Waterbender found herself oddly detached from the melodrama before her. She stood there watching her friend choke down his tears, but all she could feel were the cold, steely fingers of resolve clenching around her heart under those plates of cured hide tied to her chest. She found her voice. "Aang, you know we can't risk losing you to the Fire Nation. Sokka's been turned into bait to lure you. It's exactly what he wants."

He being Zuko, Aang mentally translated. "How do you even know it's Zuko who's behind all this?" Aang rasped through his tears. "It could have been anyone or anything! A wolf-bat might have snatched Sokka away in the night…"

"I… I just have this feeling." Katara pursed her lips. "Ever since we left that weird island, it's like…" She stopped. She didn't want to scare the monk or make him think she had gone crazy, so she decided not to tell him how she could almost _feel_ the Fire Nation prince's presence drawing closer, catching up to them. Even now, she could sense him, waiting, watching, as if from the shadows. "Call it instinct." She managed the barest of smirks.

"Please Katara, I won't get caught!" Aang nearly sobbed. "Don't send me away!"

She lowered her eyes and sighed. How could Sokka have believed this wouldn't be difficult? Just because something was right didn't make it easy. She looked into the boy's face once more.

"Look, Aang, I'll make you a deal. Three days. I'll spend three days looking for him. But you have to hide and stay hidden. If I don't come back after three days, you have to go on to the North Pole without us."

"But if I help you look, we could find him faster!" Aang said brightly, seeing an opportunity to retain her companionship.

Katara shook her head. "If this is Zuko, and I just know it is, then he'll be waiting for you. It's a trap, don't you see?"

Aang frowned. The water girl was right, or course.

"Take Appa with you, at least!"

"No," Katara said. "He's too easy to spot, and you're going to need him to get to the North."

"Then take Momo!" On cue, the flying lemur alighted on his arm, and Aang fiercely thrust him at the girl. "If I can't be there to keep you out of trouble, _someone_ has to be!"

Katara sighed. While the lemur wasn't exactly good for intelligent conversation, he did provide a little nut of warmth when he snuggled into her sleeping bag. "Okay. Momo can come with me. But after three days, he's going to come back to you, understand?"

Aang nodded slowly, wiping tears away.

"You have to promise me, Aang," Katara gripped the boy's shoulders. "Promise me you'll hide and stay hidden for three days and do everything you can to not get caught. That means no coming after me or Sokka. Three days, Aang. Three days and you head straight to the North Pole as fast as you can to learn Waterbending. Understand?"

Aang looked like he was about to burst. His eyes were bloodshot, and his face was red with trying not to cry. Slowly, he nodded, and shuddered as he swallowed another sob.

Katara squeezed his shoulders reassuringly, but she did not pull him into a hug. She felt she was already dangerously close to giving in, to flying up on Appa's back to look for her brother. But she couldn't. She had sworn that she would protect Aang and spare him from danger. She had sworn that the fate of the world came before either her life or Sokka's. But that didn't mean she wouldn't try to save him herself.

_Hang on Sokka. I'm coming._

* * *

**Yeah, so you got it right...you're all smart... but can you guess what'll happen NEXT???**


	5. Chapter 5

* * *

**Chapter Five**

* * *

The guards hadn't bothered to remove the bounty hunter's ropes, but thankfully, they did remove the stinking gag. The bindings were strong and the knots were tight. Even if the young Water Tribe warrior could get out of his ropes, he had no way to escape his cell, or past the single guard posted right by the cell door.

None of this really concerned Sokka, though. He had only one thing on his mind.

"HEY! I really, _really_ need to go to the bathroom!" He shouted at the guard.

"So go." The skull-like white face plate replied casually.

Sokka grimaced. He wasn't going to get anywhere with this guy. He closed his eyes and tried to think about other things apart from the pressure in his bladder. Unfortunately for him, the sound of the water gently sloshing against the ship's hull was overwhelming.

"_Puuuuuulllllllleeeeeease_ let me use the bathroom!" He wailed, pinching his knees together tightly.

The guard sighed behind his mask and opened the jail cell door. "If you try anything funny, I'll roast you to a crisp, got that?" He produced a fireball under Sokka's nose.

"Eep." The Water boy nodded enthusiastically as the guard burned the bindings off his wrists and around his arms and chest, leaving the ties around Sokka's legs. He righted him bodily, pushing him towards the urinal in the far corner of the cell, and turned away as Sokka completed his business noisily.

"Thanks," Sokka said in relief as the guard locked the jail cell door once more.

The guard's sardonic chuckle was not lost to the boy. "You think I really want to smell you all day in here?"

Sokka's witty retort was cut off by a heavy metal clang that snapped the guard to mute attention. The door down the hallway had opened, and Sokka's favourite Fire Nation prince came striding into view.

"I see you've been made comfortable," Zuko mocked, sliding a questioning glance at the guard. He folded his arms over his chest and regarded Sokka again. "Perhaps I can get you some pillows and a glass of lemonade?" he sneered.

"Stuff it, _your highness,_" Sokka spat. "I know what you're planning, and I can tell you it's not going to work. Aang and Katara won't come for me. I made sure of that."

"Oh, really?" Zuko quirked an eyebrow. "As if your own sister would abandon you."

"You stay away from Katara!" Sokka lunged forward to grab Zuko by the collar through the bars, but the ropes around his knees tripped him up and he pitched forward and landed hard on his side, grunting.

Zuko chuckled lowly. "The Avatar _will_ come for you, and when he and your sister arrive, I will make sure their welcome is… warm." Zuko's upturned palm filled with fire, and he closed his fist, extinguishing it, smoking curling up between his clenched fingers.

Sokka glared up from the floor, pushing himself upright. His eyes were icy, hard, but then his face relaxed into a lop-sided grin. "Are all you Fire Nation freaks such drama queens?" he drawled, and lampooned Zuko's capture-the-Avatar speech. "'Did you hear that? The Avatar and my crush are coming over for tea! Now hear my mightily bad double-entendre!'" He opened his palm with a flourish and made fiery exploding noises.

Zuko flushed. "Insolent peasant!" He threw a fireball into the cage and Sokka rolled just in time to catch the flame on the ropes around his booted feet. They singed off.

"Thanks, your highness!" Sokka pulled the ropes away from around his legs. Now he had full movement around the cell, though he wasn't sure how much good that would do him if the prince really did want to set him ablaze.

Zuko was madder than ever. He made to open the jail cell when a voice at the brig entrance called to him.

"Prince Zuko?" A gravely rumble echoed down the corridor. "What are you doing to the prisoner?"

"Pummelling him!" he shouted back, fumbling with the lock. Sokka waited, ready to leap when the door opened.

"You two can play later. We're nearing the Avatar's campsite," the voice said.

Zuko glared back at Sokka, who had gone a little pale. "I'll deal with _you_ once I get my hands on the Avatar…_and_ your precious sister," he hissed, then clomped out. The brig door slammed shut with a loud bang.

Sokka slumped down against the far wall, praying.

_You guys better not be there. By gods Aang, if you get captured, I will personally beat you harder than Zuko will… _

He didn't even want to think about what would happen if Katara were captured.

* * *

Black wings flapped noisily.

"What is it Bai-Bai?" The woman crooned, stroking the giant crow's glossy feathers as it settled onto her shoulder. The creature nuzzled her grey dreadlocks, running its smooth beak along the shell of her ear. It whispered to her in its long-lost tongue, the language of the birds, the call of the wind.

"He's here? How close?" The bird nipped and nibbled her earlobe.

"That's too close." She stood and took her weapons. "I will keep watch. You and the brethren stay close, but do not make a move unless I say so."

The crow stopped her with a sharp tap and went on whispering. She listened intently and her head snapped back.

"The Avatar? Are you sure?"

The crow cawed loudly in her ear and she grimaced.

"No need to get excited! What about the girl?"

Bai-Bai clicked and nibbled her earlobe some more. The woman made a soft, gritty _hmm_ noise in the back of her throat. The wheels in her mind turned. "Very well. Keep an eye on her. Station guards with the Avatar and alert me to his doings. I want to know what he's up to. Keep me updated."

Bai-Bai flapped and soared out the hole in the thatched roof. Other crows followed him, and as he weaved through the forest, cawing and screeching orders, he gathered more and more of his brothers and sisters together until he felt he had enough members to carry out the woman's orders.

* * *

From the ship, Iroh shuddered as a cloud of black wings alighted from the trees and spread over the land like a shadow.

* * *

_Bad omen_, Katara thought darkly as she stared up at the bird-mottled sky. The flock rushed noisily by, the sound of their pass like river rapids. A few of the black birds landed in the trees to preen, their glossy wings glistening in the weak winter sun.

She didn't actually know for certain that crows were a bad omen, but seeing so many of the birds swarm the land like that made her nervous. She had seen a couple picking at the carcass of a rabbit-mole in the woods. They were much bigger than she thought they'd be, almost as big as Momo, in fact. One of those birds could probably take on the lemur, now that she thought about it. She pet the creature perched on her shoulder reassuringly, glad that Aang had insisted she take him with her for the duration of her search.

A pang of guilt arrowed through her heart. Had she really just left Aang to sit in a cave with Appa for three days? She hoped she had given the monk enough to eat. After all, if she found Sokka, her brother would most likely be hungry, and she needed to have enough for both of them to make it to the next town.

No, not if. When. _When_ she found her brother.

Katara marched on, watching the ground for signs of the missing Water Tribe warrior. She didn't have her brother's extraordinary tracking skills, but she had plenty of sense. There was a town nearby, maybe a few hours' hike over the mountainous terrain—they had seen it before Appa landed. The likelihood of Sokka being there was slim, but if someone other than Zuko himself had taken her brother, the town was a good place to start. Plus, if the prince was, in fact, in the area, the port town would most likely be the place for the Fire Nation ship to stop to re-supply.

Zuko. Katara blushed thinking on their last encounter on the cursed island when she'd ended up spying on him while he'd bathed in a waterfall pool. Thankfully, her foggy memory had blurred out most of what she had seen. If he'd done anything to Sokka, she would forever regret not having pushed the Firebender's head underwater and holding it there.

But Katara already knew she wasn't capable of it. As much as he was a spoiled, obsessive, psychotic prince, he was also just a boy, not much older than Sokka. Under all the pretences and armour, under that scar and the perpetual frown, he was probably just a simple teen...

No. He wasn't simple at all.

Katara frowned. She couldn't let herself think of him as anything other than the enemy. He was after Aang and he was using her and Sokka to try to get to him.

Her mind turned over the events at the cursed island. Shortly after seeing Zuko naked—she choked back a sudden burst of nervous laughter—she remembered getting back into camp, but after that everything was a blur. Sokka had told her about how the island had been cursed by a Waterbending Avatar named Karanna, and that they had managed to break the curse by appeasing the restless spirit, but she did not get any more details out of him. Each time she tried, he somehow managed to worm his way out of the conversations by proposing exercise or sparring practice.

It made little sense to Katara. What made it worse was that both Aang and Sokka had developed some kind of conspiracy of silence between them. She had tried to get the truth out of the young monk, but whenever she broached the subject with him, he flew away. Literally.

And then there had been the dreams. Strange, beautiful, wonderful dreams of the masked stranger who had captured her in every sense of the word. She knew it was Zuko in those dreams, but it was someone else, too, someone she felt she had known for a long time. Possibly someone she had even loved. But that was absolutely ridiculous. She didn't love Zuko—she barely knew him.

She felt a tug at her heart and gasped—heat crept into her core, as though a steady trickle of warm, honeyed longing were leaking into her. Her stomach turned and she frowned as this instinctual feeling confirmed her worst fear: Zuko was nearby.

Lately, that warm tingle that tickled up and down her spine and flowed into her veins was what she felt anytime the prince drew close. It was a sensation that was all too addictive, and one that Katara instantly craved as soon as it dissipated. The first time she'd realized something wasn't quite right was just after they'd departed the island: that cold squeeze of her heart had left her utterly sapped and empty feeling. But as the days wore on and Zuko was hot on their tail once more, Katara could not deny the fleeting moments of pure light flooding her senses unbidden as his ship came within sight, bobbing on the horizon; only to be followed by the emotional drain she had to endure as they left the ship far behind.

Once she'd recognized this feeling and realized what was causing it, she'd kept her discovery to herself. Aang and Sokka would probably either tease her or think she'd gone crazy, but then again, if _they_ weren't sharing their secrets, then she wouldn't share hers. Besides which, this link was her only clue as to what might really have happened that night on the cursed island.

But oh, that _feeling._ Katara shivered, bracing herself to not open her mind to Zuko's approach. It was dangerous, she knew, to attach herself to him, to make any kind of emotional connection to him, to the simple idea of his nearness. It had taken some practice, but she'd learned how to stem the flow of awareness so she only felt little tugs here and there, as if her heart was being gently pulled on by a string rather than wrenched about by a vise. But the temptation to increase the flow, to intensify the feeling, hung before her, hovering like a ripe moon peach in front of a slavering hog-monkey. It was the difference between dipping your toe into unknown waters and plunging yourself in entirely. Inviting as the cool depths might seem, she didn't know what dangers awaited her once she immersed herself.

No, she'd made her choice regarding Zuko and she planned to stick with it. It had taken all her strength of will to direct Aang to turn Appa inland and away from the coast, where the prince could not follow. As the days passed without sign of their pursuers, the ragged tear in her soul slowly diminished into a mere hollow, a minor gap in her burgeoning heart. She forgot about the Firebender for a blissful while as they attended the ill-fated Fire Festival and joined up with Jeong-Jeong and his band of rebels, but Zhao's intervention was a sobering reminder of the dire urgency of their quest, so they'd moved on with yet another enemy to watch for on the horizon.

And then they hit the northern border of the Earth Kingdom and the open sea once more, skirting the prince's vast blue hunting ground, heading west.

In hindsight, she realized that she had known he was closing in on them—was miles away but heading their way straight and true. If she examined herself a little more closely, she had to admit that she hadn't notified her companions because she hadn't cared. The sight of the open sea had excited her in a way the water never had before. Because the sea was where Zuko lived, where he existed in her mind's eye, like some legendary figure, a lesser titan of the Fire Nation treading on the ocean's horizon…

The insistent tug in her mind and on her heart brought Katara stumbling back to the present. Zuko was getting closer. She closed her eyes, pushing the feeling from her mind, willing the walls around her heart to thicken, and focused on finding Sokka. Whether or not it was Zuko who had captured him, she would find her brother.

* * *

Sokka played with the bits of burned rope in his cell, having nothing better to do. He arranged them on the floor in various patterns and shapes, spelled his name with them, drew maps, made worm puppets, and so forth. The changing of the guard was the only way the Water boy knew it was midday. The first guard was replaced by an identical-looking soldier in Fire Nation armour, but when Sokka tried to strike up a conversation with him, the man simply grunted at him to be quiet.

Who knew being bait would be so boring? He just hoped the rest of his incarceration wouldn't be this dull.

A midday meal was eventually brought to Sokka by another guard, or perhaps it was the same guard who had been there earlier: Sokka couldn't tell. The thin fishy gruel and a plain steamed bun weren't too pleasant, but at least the soup was warm and the bread filled him up.

It occurred to him that he could try to escape, but he wasn't sure how at this point. He'd come very close to getting Prince Zuko fired up (pun intended) and ready to barge into his cell, leaving the door open, but the last thing Sokka wanted was to get burned to a crisp.

He sighed. He would have to be patient. If Aang and Katara were really committed to their promise, they'd be headed to the North Pole by now, which left him plenty of time to figure out an escape plan.

The old Sokka would be banging on the cell bars and screaming loudly for more food. But now, the Water Tribe warrior knew there was more at risk. The Avatar needed to get away, needed a head start. So Sokka decided he would be a good prisoner and at least pretend that Aang and Katara would rescue him. Zuko didn't seem to think they would do otherwise, so he could probably use that to his advantage. Maybe the prince would even listen to him and Sokka could try to feed him misinformation to throw him off their trail.

It would take time to earn anyone's trust on this ship, but he had all the time in the world now.

So the Water boy sat patiently, thinking, waiting, watching.

* * *

Zuko stood next to his uncle at the starboard side of the ship, staring at the pocked cliffs, the steep, rocky crags choked with verdant conifers dripping with enormous pinecones, heavy with dewy moisture and amber-coloured sap. Though it was past noon, a fog still clung to the land in soupy patches. It should be easy to spot a kid in orange clothes, a ten-tonne bison, and a Water Tribe girl in striking blue robes against the dark green-brown cliffs, but they couldn't see anything. It didn't help that all the movement flickering along the rocks and in the trees turned out to be hundreds of crows perching on the land and in the trees, either.

Not that Zuko actually _needed_ to find the Avatar. He just needed to make sure _they_ found _him_. But old habits die hard.

"Send up a signal flare," Zuko commanded a deck hand. "Set a course heading west, but keep it slow, and stay close to land. That should get their attention."

* * *

Katara heard the shrill whine and saw a bright red star shoot up above the tree canopy, pop at its apex, and sizzle loudly back down to earth. She instinctively headed toward the flash, but stopped herself. Sokka didn't have any flares on him, plus he would never reveal his position like that given their situation as fugitives from the Fire Nation. But she had to see. She had to know.

She lithely crept towards the source of the flare, darting between the trees and crouching behind the rocks. The little fireball had definitely come from the water—she could tell by how close she was to the beach.

Just as the water's edge came within sight, she clutched at her chest, her heart gripped with fear and fury, while simultaneously threatening to burst with joy.

The prow of Zuko's ship silently drifted into view, the steel horn looking like it was part of a much deadlier monster lurking in the silvery fog. It crossed her path slowly, chugging along close to the shoreline, so close she could discern the prince's distinct shaved head and queue from the shelter of the pine tree she crouched under, his face a pale, living jot on the landscape made by the tip of her pinkie finger. The sight of him sent another dart of agony—razor-sharp ecstasy laced with shards of despair—through her and she set her jaw against the feeling, closing off her mind as tightly as she could cork her water skin.

She smoothed a palm over the oiled ridges of the tough leather breastplate, grateful for the way it seemed to contain her wildly beating heart. She uttered a silent prayer to Avatar Kyoshi and her impeccable fashion sense and eye for camouflage. The dark greens and browns would shield her from the prince's steely glare: Her blue Water Tribe robe would have made her stick out like a sore thumb on this earthy terrain, and she would have been spotted for sure.

She held her breath as the ship went by, her eyes never leaving Zuko's tiny head. She could almost envision the scowl on his face as he squinted into the woods, scanning the land for her and Aang, and shivered. A small and ridiculously gleeful part of her wanted her to jump from her hiding place and wave her arms, yelling, "Here I am! Here I am!" but she quelled it with a sharp reprimand to herself.

It seemed obvious to her that Zuko was waiting for the Avatar to burst forth and rescue Sokka. The prince was mocking them, screaming, "Come and get him!" with the flares. He might as well have had her brother stand on deck with a big sign in hand. Katara cursed softly. Sokka had been right—the Fire Nation prince was not about using the water children as bait to lure Aang out.

It was a good thing the young and impetuously heroic Avatar wasn't there.

* * *

The cave Appa and Aang had chosen to hide in was quite a ways up the cliff, and was well sheltered by a grove of trees, but still, it had a magnificent view of the land below and the water beyond. Appa lowed despondently.

"Don't worry, boy. Katara and Momo will be back anytime now with Sokka, and we can all keep flying to the North Pole." It sounded like wishful thinking even to the young monk. He sighed and sat down on the cold hard ground, whipping up a tiny ball of air which he spun around the ground like a top.

The distant whine made him look up and he saw the bright red star burst above the water. His heart leapt.

"Sokka!" He was on his feet in seconds, readying his glider, when Katara's words stopped him.

_Be brave Aang. Whatever you see, whatever you hear, don't come out of this cave until the three days are up. If I don't come back, go on without me. I'll be fine. _

Aang chewed his nails nervously. How could he have just let Katara go off on her own after all they had been through together? Why had he even made that stupid promise to his two companions? He was part of their family, and they trusted him to do the right thing.

Well, the right thing was to help his family.

"Appa, stay here," he commanded the flying bison. "And don't move from this spot. If I don't come back in a day's time…"

Well, he didn't know what to tell his spirit guide to do at that point. Because he was sure it wouldn't come to that. It couldn't. He was the Avatar.

He snapped his glider open and soared out over the treetops on a gust of wind towards the diminishing flare.

Behind him, the most unlikely sentry guards followed, sailing in his wake on silent midnight wings.


	6. Chapter 6

* * *

**Chapter Six**

* * *

Zuko scanned the craggy green cliffs, his eyes never resting long on one spot. He had the crew fire off two more flares, and ordered the helmsman to drift further away from the shoreline but remain within sight of land, trolling like a fisherman bent of snaring his legendary catch.

Iroh watched his nephew with interest, seeing the hard glint in his gold eyes. It was a look he knew all too well, and one he had seen in his nephew's eyes before: Burning hope.

A particularly touchy question was forming on the old general's tongue, and he blurted it out before he could decide against asking it.

"Do you think she'll come?"

Zuko looked stunned for a moment and he rounded on his uncle. "What?"

"The Waterbender girl." Iroh couldn't suppress the wide, toothy grin spreading over his face. "You _like_ her, don't you, Nephew?"

Zuko nearly choked on his vehement snort and turned his attention back to the shore. "I'm only interested in the Avatar, Uncle. That's ALL." The young man's cheeks were uncharacteristically tinted.

The Dragon of the West held his tongue and waited.

"She's a filthy Water Tribe peasant." Zuko sniffed haughtily. "While I am the crown prince of the Fire Nation."

Iroh continued to stare ahead, holding his blank expression.

The prince added, "Besides which, she's traveling with the Avatar. As far as I'm concerned, she's the enemy."

The old man nodded silently.

"And she's too skinny," Zuko muttered noncommittally, crossing his arms over his chest defensively. "Not my type."

Iroh began to cough noisily. "If you'll excuse me, I'm going to have a cup of tea," he said, hiding his face as he waddled away.

A minute later, Zuko heard the hollow echo of his uncle's laughter reverberating throughout the ship.

He ran his palm over his reddening face. Was it that obvious?

* * *

Sokka's sloth-cat nap was disturbed by an eerie sound; the hum-thrum in the metal walls made it sound almost as if the entire ship was _laughing_. Was the hull warping? Were they sinking? Maybe Aang and Katara had come to rescue him!

The silent guard heard it too and twitched his drooping chin up.

"What was that?" Sokka asked him casually, trying to hide the hope in his voice. The guard glanced over at him, as if suddenly remembering he was there.

The soldier stood there a moment longer, but the lines in his body suddenly relazed. "General Iroh," the man grumbled, and he slumped again. "Bit of an odd turtleduck, but he's all right."

Disappointed but not beyond optimistic, Sokka jumped at this opportunity to make conversation. "Exactly _how_ is he odd?"

The guard stared at him through the white faceplate with empty-socket eyes, as though trying to figure out whether it was safe to talk to the boy. But gossip got the better of the bored Fire Nation troop.

"Iroh's a retired general, brother to the Fire Lord. Used to be a great hero of the nation, a decorated military man. Now all he does is drink tea, play Pai-Sho, and shop." Sokka could see the guard shudder with private laughter.

"So what's so weird about that? Sounds like he's just some old retiree," Sokka asked.

The troop turned his head. He couldn't see past the mask, but the he just knew the guard was giving him a wry look.

"If you're lucky, you'll see for yourself," the soldier replied.

Silence descended once more. The young water warrior twiddled his thumbs. "So...how'd you end up on this boat?"

The troop seemed surprised by the prisoner's question. Since when had anyone ever taken an interest in a faceless Fire Nation soldier?

"What's it to you?" the guard asked suspiciously.

"Look, I'm bored, you're bored. Who else do I have to talk to?" He let his head fall back against the wall with a thud.

The soldier lifted one shoulder in a noncommittal shrug but said nothing.

In the silence that followed, he studied the man for a moment. "So, are you the same guy who let me use the bathroom earlier?"

A long pause. "There are three guard shifts. I'm the second one."

"Oh. So, what can I call you?"

"You don't get to call me anything," the guard snapped.

Sokka blithely ignored his warning tone. "I'm calling you Number Two, then." He snickered to himself with juvenile candour. "Heh. Number Two."

The guard spluttered in indignant protest when the door at the end opened again and Number Two stood at attention. By the soft scuffing of the footsteps, Sokka could tell it wasn't Zuko.

A vaguely familiar-looking rotund man shuffled into view, carrying a tray with a terra cotta teapot and two cups. He smiled benevolently down at the Water Tribe warrior.

"Hello," he said pleasantly.

Sokka stared back, unsure of what to make of this newcomer. "…Hello," he replied uneasily.

"Would you care for a spot of ginseng tea?" he offered. "It's my favourite."

* * *

Katara's mind whirled as she followed Zuko's boat, skirting around the trees and trying to keep out of sight of the Fire Nation ship. She had no way to get to the boat, rescue Sokka, and get off and away. If she'd had Appa, she might have managed it. But of course, she had left the Air bison with Aang, and she couldn't go back for him right now: Aang would want to help her rescue her brother, and the whole point of separation was to keep the Avatar out of the Fire Nation's clutches.

She supposed she could try to Waterbend to sink the ship, but that wouldn't help if her brother was locked up in a cell below deck. There had to be a way to stop the vessel, to keep it from slipping away into the ocean where she would not be able to follow…

All of a sudden, a great cacophony of wings and cawing whooshed noisily through the trees. Katara snapped her head up, seeing the hundreds of crows that had passed earlier come rushing back in a dark cloud. Her skin prickled as they noisily alighted in the branches high above, glaring down at her, their beady eyes like shiny midnight ornaments decorating a solstice tree.

Momo screeched and clung tighter to her shoulder.

"It's okay Momo. They're just birds," the Water girl smoothed his raised hackles, stroking him for his comfort as much as her own.

The crows began a discordant song, a throaty cry of warning that bordered on a childish taunt screaming double-dare. Unnerved, Katara circled around on the spot, finding herself penned in. She was trying to decide if she was in danger from these avian sentinels when she glimpsed a bright red and orange _something_ streak across the sky, skimming the tree canopy.

She instantly realized what it was.

"Aang! No!" she cried, but the boy didn't hear her above the chilling birdsong. He darted over the water toward the Fire Nation vessel, zooming in with reckless abandon, and the Waterbender watched in horror as Zuko's ship came to life. They had spotted him.

"Aang! AANG!" she screamed, but the boy was already pitching his glider toward the ship. If she could get his attention and make him turn around, make him come back to her, they would still have a chance to escape…

A barrage of fireballs erupted from the deck, aimed at the red glider swooping at the ship. She watched helplessly as the little monk dodged about, launching his own nearly invisible counterattacks, great gusts of wind that bowled the Fire Nation troops over, throwing some of them into the water. From her vantage point, the Waterbender could see the tiny figures running back and forth on the ship. She picked out Zuko's distinct head from the rest as he raced after Aang, throwing tightly controlled fire blasts at the agile monk.

She shook herself out of her stupor. She couldn't just stand there and watch! She had to help Aang!

Could she create a tidal wave? Could she maybe freeze the ship on the spot? But what good would that do? _Think Katara, think!_ She wished fervently that she knew some more advanced Waterbending moves—as it was, she didn't have a full arsenal of tricks up her sleeve; only what her imagination and strength afforded her, and neither was working well for her just now.

Appa. If she could get Appa, the bison could fly her to the ship and they could all fight and find Sokka and get away…

She gasped as Aang's glider caught a fireball dead-on, the delicate fabric spotted with singed holes. He put the flames out with a gust of wind and landed on the boat's deck, buffeting his fall with another blast. But now he was surrounded by Fire Nation soldiers, and he had no way off the ship. He brandished his staff.

"Appa! APPA!" Katara began calling desperately into the woods. Gods, why hadn't she accepted Aang's offer of the whistle?

_Because you didn't expect to see him again and you wanted him to have it, _a voice in her head berated her. _Idiot!_

"Momo! Find Appa! We have to help Aang!" she cried.

Momo had never understood her before, but he did register the panic in her voice. And whenever one of his human feeders began screaming the way Katara was now, his first instinct was to get his big friend to come and help.

The lemur leapt into the air and soared away while Katara helplessly watched the battle unfold across the water.

_Sokka was wrong. Aang and I should have stayed together—then we'd both be fighting Zuko. I should have sent Aang away immediately. I knew it was Zuko! Dammit, why didn't I think this through?_

The Avatar and the prince were facing off now, throwing wild punches and kicks and fireballs and air slices at each other. They were enclosed by a ring of guards, none of them involving themselves in the duel except to contain the monk. Katara was frozen in place, her mind sluggishly trying to think of a way to help Aang. All around her, the crows' squawking rose to a crescendo as they avidly watched the fight like bloodthirsty spectators at a gladiatorial match, jeering, hissing, favouring neither contestant.

And then, all of a sudden Aang's tiny orange body crumpled to the deck. Katara's heart stopped and plummeted as she registered the defeat. She hadn't seen it, but a hot jet of flame had struck the little monk square in the chest. She heard her own wordless wail resound across the watery expanse. Too late! She was too late! She had just stood there while…

_No! It can't end like this! Appa, where are you?_

* * *

Momo knew when there was trouble. He didn't need to understand his feeders' panicked babbling when he could smell soot on the wind, or the distinct salt-on-metal odour that accompanied all Fire Nation ships. He'd learned early on to associate those smells with danger.

When the female one's voice had risen an octave in terror, the flying lemur knew of only one thing to do: go get Appa. His enormous Air Temple brethren could fix anything, if not by brute strength, then by sheer intimidation. Appa would know what to do.

The trees became a blur of greys, browns and greens as Momo sped on, guided by the faint, musky hint of bison in the air. He slalomed around the thick trunks, calculating with his lemury instincts the fastest way to call the bison from hiding.

He soared onwards, beating his wings to give him extra bursts of speed. He had to be getting close—he could smell damp, dusty fur nearby.

But Momo's frantic focus on Appa's trail made him oblivious to the angry caws all around him.

Before he knew what was happening, a dark shape dived down sharply, slashing across the lemur's trajectory. He screeched in alarm and veered away, narrowly missing a low-hanging branch. Out of the blue, another streak of black dropped down on him, clipping his right wing. Momo tumbled haplessly through the air, feeling the burning sting on the fine membrane of his underarm.

Regaining tight control of his fall, the Avatar's pet landed on the closest branch to get his bearings. The air here was thick with the stench of fresh bird droppings and he wrinkled his sensitive nose, looking about, trying muzzily to retrace Appa's scent. But just as he thought he could discern the bison's smell beneath the cloying reek, a flurry of feathery black horror descended. Panicky and disoriented, the lemur soon understood that he was under attack. A talon tore at Momo's cheek and another gripped and pulled at his long tail. Claws scratched at his big, sensitive ears and he shrieked as they pierced the downy flesh. He lashed out, batting at the furious onslaught with ineffectual paws, shouting feeble lemur curses at the birds. But the attack continued, even as he stumbled off the branch.

He screamed as he felt himself fall, unable to open his torn and bloody wings beneath the crush of crow bodies.


	7. Chapter 7

* * *

**Chapter Seven**

* * *

Katara stood frozen on the edge of the forest. She could feel the blood rushing to her head, making spots appear before her eyes, but she squelched the rising panic and steadied herself as she went through her catalogue of ways to rescue her brother and now the Avatar from the prince's clutches.

She had to stop the boat. Zuko would make haste for the Fire Nation now that he had Aang, she just knew it. She ran to the shore, feeling her feet hit the gravel beach, and plunged mid-thigh into the icy water, her robes mushrooming out around her. She fixed her eye on the distant vessel and took a firm stance, feeling the heavy mist cloud around her as if she were a magnet for the moisture. She spread her arms and thrust them forward and out, focusing all her will into the arctic blast. An icy path arrowed from her straight to the ship, solidifying with sharp hissing, crackling noises as the prow ploughed into her tiny iceberg.

It wasn't nearly enough to stop the ship, and Katara already felt winded. Gathering her remaining strength, she unleashed another attack, roaring with the effort, this time aiming at the ship's broadside. It struck, the crystalline splash crawling almost all the way up to the deck, but the ice stopped short of the railing and broke off as the vessel drifted slowly, smoothly on.

A sob burst from her lungs. She couldn't stop it. She hadn't been able to save Aang, or Sokka. It was over…

Just as her heart was about to break, the ship miraculously drifted to a halt.

* * *

The old man was…_interesting_ company. They had said almost nothing to each other at first as the stout Firebender poured the steaming brew from the terra cotta teapot, but as the silence stretched on, Sokka couldn't help but try to fill the void.

"I've seen you before," he remarked blandly.

Iroh cocked one bushy grey eyebrow and replied, "You have."

The Water Tribe warrior stared fixedly at him, keeping his expression neutral. "So what's the deal? Are you public relations on this ship?"

The old man chuckled, a deep, throaty rumble that reminded Sokka of some of the men of his tribe. "Public relations. Yes, I suppose you could call me that."

He snorted. "Well, if that's the case, I have a complaint about the room service around here. And the accommodations aren't all that accommodating."

Iroh tugged at his beard, grinning almost as sardonically as Sokka. "I'll see what I can do about that. Now tell me, what's your name?"

Sokka didn't reply. He didn't want to give anyone power over him by giving out the last thing he owned.

After a long silence, Iroh waved his hand dismissively. "It's okay. You don't have to tell me. I understand." He gestured at the tea cup on the floor as he picked up his own. "Please, drink up, or it'll get cold. I promise it's not poisoned or drugged or anything." He slurped his tea noisily.

Sokka stared at the cup. He was a little thirsty, and there really wasn't any reason why he couldn't drink the tea. He reached forward and took the cup, inspecting it for sabotage. The fragrant blend filled his nostrils and snapped him to alertness. He sipped the slightly bitter concoction, rolling the alien flavour over his tongue before swallowing. Like the old man, it was…_interesting. _Not his first choice for beverages, but refreshing and healthy tasting.

"I see you're a connoisseur." Iroh beamed in approval.

"Uh, no. Not really."

"But you taste things the way they're meant to be tasted." The Firebender indicated the tea cup with a nod. "You must have a real appreciation for fine food."

Sokka chewed his tongue. He could go on all day about the delicious Water Tribe dishes of stewed sea prunes and blubbered seal jerky he missed, but just thinking about them made his mouth water and his heart ache with homesickness.

"My nephew is not much of an eater. He likes plain, simple foods, same as what the other men on the ship eat. I guess the richer stuff his old uncle likes reminds him too much of home," the old man explained.

Sokka processed this and realized what he was saying. "Wait, you're Zuko's _uncle?_"

Iroh nodded and bowed his head. "Retired General Iroh, at your service"

Sokka tensed. He knew a bit about Iroh from what Earth Kingdom merchants had told him—mainly that a General Iroh, aka the Dragon of the West, had laid siege to Ba Sing Se for six hundred days only to retreat when it seemed he would finally breach the inner city wall. But what the guard had told him about Iroh was completely incongruous with what he had imagined the warmonger would look like. Surely the infamous Dragon of the West and this cushy, jolly man could not be one and the same?

"Refill?" Iroh held up the teapot smilingly.

Sokka automatically extended his arm and mentally smacked himself as the hot beverage flowed into the tiny cup. He was supposed to be giving this old guy a cold shoulder, not having tea parties with him! But he couldn't help it: General Iroh seemed like such a sincere old man who looked like he wanted nothing more than to sit and chat and have a spot of tea. Even Gran Gran's elderly dourness seemed menacing compared to this gentle soul.

But looks could be deceiving, he reminded himself sternly. This could all be part of some plot to soften him up before he was beaten for information. Any minute now, a pair of soldiers could walk in and start kicking him in the stomach. They'd chain him up and put a bag over his head and interrogate him and torture him…

The Water boy shook his head. If they'd wanted to do that, they would have started hours ago. Besides, nothing would be gained by hurting him. They already had a vague idea of where Aang and Katara were and where they were headed. His only role in the brig was as bait.

He briefly considered throwing the teacup across the room in a show of protest, but decided against it. As far as he could see, there was no harm in drinking more of the tea, whose sharp, bitter flavour was growing on him. If this was the prelude to the torture to come, he might as well enjoy whatever comforts he could now.

"So, what do you want?" Sokka finally asked after a beat of quiet, his tone carefully phlegmatic.

Iroh looked up, head tilted inquisitively to one side. "Want? Well, another cup of tea is always nice." He beamed down at his cup and took another sip.

"I mean from me. Why are you here? I don't have any information about the Avatar, if that's what you're trying to butter me up for."

The old Firebender shook his head. "I don't need anything from you except maybe a little company. My nephew's a little busy right now. He doesn't have time for an old fogey like me." He sighed dramatically.

Sokka couldn't help but feel a little sorry for Iroh, until he remembered who his dear nephew was and what he was busy doing.

"Maybe if he stopped chasing us all over the world, you two would have more time together," Sokka grunted bitterly.

"Ah, yes. If only," Iroh murmured.

Suddenly, loud bangs and the sounds of metal on metal gonged throughout the ship. Overhead, Sokka could hear something ringing hollowly, muted booms that made the walls quiver. Then the ship jarred, as though it had just barrelled through a wall. Sokka fumbled the teacup, spilling some of the tea. A second later, another hit rocked the ship, this time throwing Sokka off balance so he fell forward. His grip on the cup remained firm, but the tea had splashed out all over the floor.

Iroh stared up at the ceiling, his brow furrowed. "Oh, dear."

* * *

Zuko's heart thumped madly in his chest as the Avatar's body was dragged down to the brig in heavy iron manacles. He stared around wild-eyed, panting, not sure if he could celebrate yet. Even his troops seemed to be in shock. They had all taken a beating, yes, but their search was finally over. The Avatar was in their custody. They were headed home.

And then the ship shook as it ran into something.

"What the—"

A second later, the ship shuddered again, and Zuko canted to one side. But the vessel kept moving, gliding on in that deadly serene water, the green-brown landscape drifting lazily by. Had they run aground?

The Firebender went to the railing and spotted the remnants of steaming ice falling away from the starboard side. He sighted along the water's surface, seeing the bits of ice floating in the dark water, to see—

"Katara." He could barely make her out against the land: she was wearing a dark green outfit that seemed oddly familiar. But he imagined he could see those bright blue eyes burning with fury, determination, hunger…

"Stop the ship and lay anchor!" he yelled. "Ready the landing boats! The Waterbender is out there!"

The soldiers rushed to obey their prince and the ship ground to a halt as the anchor dragged across the rocky bottom.

Iroh emerged from below deck. His eyes were wide with disbelief, his skin a touch pale. "Zuko! You caught the Avatar?" It came out like a question. "I was talking with the Water Tribe boy and they brought the Avatar in—" he followed his nephew as the prince stalked to the lower level to board the landing boats. "Where are you going?"

"The Waterbender is out there," Zuko answered snappishly. "I'm going to get her and make sure she doesn't try to rescue the other two."

Iroh pursed his lips, trying to stifle the wide grin threatening to contort his mouth. "Really Zuko, you have the Avatar. Don't you think you should just let the water children go?"

"They're NOT children, and I will not risk letting her—letting _them_ go." Zuko looked away. "Especially not with that bison and lemur still out there. With the girl controlling them, they could sink the ship if given the opportunity. I will _not_ underestimate them."

"Going for a complete set then, are we?" Iroh said thoughtfully. The Fire prince was unsure whether his uncle was mocking him or not.

The boats were quickly lowered into the water, loaded with five soldiers each plus an overeager prince. "I'll be back soon. Make sure the prisoners are secured… and prepare a cell for the girl."

Iroh nodded and turned to carry out his nephew's wishes.

Zuko suddenly halted, an odd though crossing his brain. "Wait, no. Prepare a _cabin _for the girl."

Iroh's eyebrows shot to his hairline as his nephew turned and hurried away, smirking, eyeing the shoreline gamely.

_Ready or not, here I come._

* * *

As soon as the ship had stopped, Katara knew they were coming after her. At least they weren't leaving right away, where she couldn't follow.

But now she had a different and much more pressing problem. She slogged to shore and took off at a run, stumbling over the soft peat and slick rocks thickening upslope, her clothes heavy with water. She headed back toward the cave she had left Aang in, following a path she wasn't entirely certain of. With luck, Appa would still be there, waiting for his master to return. Maybe Momo had gotten lost…or maybe he was on his way here now…

She dismissed the smallest member of their group with a guilty swallow, pinning her focus down to two points of action. _Find Appa. Get into the air._

The weight of her pack seemed to have doubled as she ran. Perhaps it was the leaden feeling of dread in her stomach. Everything had gone wrong, from the what-if-we're-caught scenario, to her own foolish plan to leave the Avatar to his own devices. None of it had happened the way it was supposed to. Of course Aang wouldn't listen to her. He loved them all too much to leave them in danger. And she could never let Sokka go. He was her brother.

She ran on, throat, eyes and lungs burning as she hiked up and up. Beneath the growing hysteria, the thickening thread of connection between her and the prince told her he was near, that Zuko—and probably several soldiers—were behind her. The distinct shrieking crunch of metal and wood against gravel rang out. The boats had landed on shore.

The crows overhead cawed in alarm and took flight as she tore through the woods at a run. The land here was steep and slippery with silvery clinging mist. It had been a lot easier to climb down than it was going up, but Katara kept moving. If the terrain was slowing her down, it would slow down the armour-clad Fire Nation troops even more. If she could get to Appa, the bison could blow the troops off the cliff and fly her away and they could regroup and figure out how to get Aang and Sokka back—

Tears stung her eyes, but she refused to surrender herself to despair or the creeping cloud of panic threatening to consume her. Adrenaline pumped steadily through her veins, an icy, jagged tonic that made her mind scream with fear, stymieing rational thought. She ran on, focusing her efforts down to a single conviction: she would not give up or give in now. She had to rescue Sokka. She had to rescue Aang. The world needed the Avatar, and Katara needed her big brother.

The Water girl clambered on, pulling herself up the rocks, climbing an almost sheer cliff face, ignoring the stitches stabbing her sides, the oppression of failure and doom closing in on her and the ache of her fingers as she clawed her way up the rocks. She breathed in, shuddering, a half scream, half sob breaking in her throat as she slipped and caught herself. _No, no crying, keep moving, keep moving._

She had a vague sense that she was headed in the right direction, but nothing around her looked familiar. It didn't matter though—all she had to do was get away, get away, get away…

* * *

_She won't get away this time_, Zuko thought as he pelted on, weaving around the trees limberly despite his wearing armour.

He could see her distantly, a smudge of green bounding up the slope. He could practically smell her fear on the wind, an imagined bouquet of sweat and the raw smell of icebergs. It was intoxicating, pumping hot blood and life through his veins like he'd never been alive before.

The thunder of his heart reminded her of his desperate flight at that island as he carried the prone girl to safety… He wondered if she remembered any of that.

_I'll make her remember, and she'll be properly grateful that I spared her_. Zuko's lips twisted into a determined scowl.

Up and up, forward and on he ran, and it was like none of his soldiers could run fast enough. He shouted at them to hurry, she's right there, get her, but don't hurt her. They were all too far behind to hear his shouts, especially over the cries of the crows overhead.

But Zuko didn't notice. His eye was fixed on the girl, climbing steadily up that cliff, scrabbling… slipping! His heart leapt and resettled as she regained her footing and kept going, and he felt the most confusing surge of pride and disappointment, triumph and despair as she kept going, kept going, farther and farther away.

_Focus, Zuko. If she gets to the bison, she's gone._

A mass of black fury suddenly obscured his vision, feathers and the putrid smell of dead meat beating in his face. He hissed as a talon raked across his cheek. Zuko jerked to a stop, blinded, and swiped an arm out, throwing a jet of flame to dissipate the assault. The thing jagged away, shrieking, its glossy feathers becoming dark grey ash in the heavy air as the yellow flames consumed it. The body of the crow fell to the ground, flapping, twitching horrifically as it screamed in its death throes.

The Firebender forgot all about the Waterbender for a moment, horrified by what he had done, watching that twisted, charred body writhe on the ground before him.

The cawing high above became louder. Angrier.

And suddenly, Zuko was aware of the hundreds of birds in the trees, watching him and the other Firebenders with keen, black eyes.

* * *

Katara chanced a look back, glimpsed Zuko's pale shaven head and ponytail, and kept going. If she could recognize him, he was way too close.

Her muscles screamed for her to stop her panicked scramble. The light leather breastplate felt like a ton of bricks, and the pack made climbing and running that much more difficult. She thought about shucking the cumbersome thing off, but that would leave her with absolutely nothing to survive on now that she was on her own.

A nut of grief took root inside her. She was suddenly grateful for every push-up Sokka had forced her to do, every lap he'd made her run. If he hadn't been training them all so hard, where would she be right now? Probably on Zuko's ship. He would have caught her, wrestled her down…

She didn't want to think about what would happen next. Thanks to Sokka's worried sidelong glances and severe frowns at the very mention of the Firebender's name, she could only imagine what her brother thought might happen to her if she were caught.

Her skin prickled with goose bumps. Ever since their encounter at the Ho'Wan Island Carnival, things between her and the Fire prince had been just too confusing for her to think about, and that wasn't even considering her strange connection with him now. As she pulled herself up the cliff, it came to her suddenly that the missing memories of that weird night on the island probably involved Zuko somehow. It would explain why both the boys avoided talking about the Fire prince lately, and it also explained her mysterious inner link with Zuko.

Moments of clarity come at the oddest times, she thought wryly as she scrambled over the edge of a large boulder and reached for the next handhold. Hauling herself upwards, a deadly calm filled her senses as she decided she had tormented herself about the prince sufficiently these past weeks. Enough was enough. She was ready to start seeing him as simply "the enemy" again. It seemed this pursuit was helping that perspective resurface.

A bone-chilling screech came from below, but Katara didn't dare to stop and look. On she went, climbing, the air growing thick with a rich, earthy stench.

All of a sudden, a big black something swooped down, diving at the water girl who was just pulling herself up over the lip of another landing. The Waterbender cried out in surprise as wings struck her. She batted blindly, covering her face as the assault continued. A sharp stab on her hand made her lose her grip on the rock, and she slid down the incline. Catching her heel in the pocked stone, she stopped herself from falling all the way, grabbing hold of the vertical cliff face on her left. As she half turned to fix her attention on the assailant, Katara realized just how high up she was. Her heart pounded: this couldn't be the right way. The path to the cave had been nowhere near this high on her way down. But she couldn't backtrack now: Zuko was right below her, there, in that little clearing surrounded by trees…

And the attack came again, this time, accompanied by outraged screams, cawing, clawing, wings, darkness, and the cloying stench of decay. Katara cried out as countless midnight forms descended upon her, their glossy darkness closing about her head, tearing at her face with unseen talons. Mindless panic gripped her, and the Waterbender stopped worrying about everything except the wings, the searing razor-edged cuts on her skin, and the sharp, black points threatening to take her eyes out. She tried to lever herself out of the corner of the sharp rock where she had wedged herself, between the sheer cliff and the path she had been climbing. If only she could stand and keep going, she might be able to escape the attack.

Slowly, Katara stood, shielding her face, batting the things away from her occasionally, as if they were only giant bugs. She felt her arms and clenched fists connect with a few soft bodies, but the battering did not abate. The crows had more surface area to attack now, and the Water girl instantly regretted standing up as she felt the silk of her robe snag on a few jagged points. She flailed, a cry rising to her throat that could not be suppressed as she struggled for her life, too frightened and panicked to even consider Waterbending.

The only intelligible word her brain could form spewed from her mouth before she could stop herself. It didn't matter that the only one who could hear it was the last person she wanted to answer her call.

She screamed, unable to stop the pulsing waves of fear flowing from her gut.

"HELP!"

And she fell.

* * *

The Firebender heard the scream, but he was under such a deluge of wings and claws that he could not see beyond the blackness.

Bile rose to his throat. Katara had called out to _him_. She was calling for _his_ help. She needed _him_.

"Katara!" he cried back, but something struck him in the mouth and he coughed, feeling a bitter fuzziness on his tongue as another claw tore at his outstretched hand. He spat and tried to move toward the sound of the Water girl's voice, but she didn't call out again.

Summoning all his will and breath, the prince balled himself up, feeling the muscles of his abdomen tighten as he gathered his fire together. With a roar, he exploded, pushing a globe of pulsing fire out. The hot shockwave bowled away the wings and beaks and talons so they went slamming into trees, skidding into the dirt, most of them flapping madly away.

As his vision cleared and the whirling of wings thinned, Zuko looked around, trying to get his bearings. He had stumbled quite a way from the path he'd been tracking the girl on, and he climbed back up the incline, skirting around a few twitching bird bodies. Clouds of huge black crows swooped through the air all around the cliff like bits of ash. He scanned the path, trying to pick out the Waterbender's cool blue outfit, but remembered she was wearing green. He squinted, but could see nothing on the rocks.

"Katara!" he shouted, wincing at the tint of desperation in his voice. He scrambled toward the cliff, wary of the circling birds, but no one was there.

_She must have fallen…_

A bolt of dread made his spine go rigid, his stomach plunging to his feet. He ran the length of the trail, eyes skimming the earth, jerking back and forth at every little movement in the trees, on the ground, in the air…

But there was no body to be found.

High above, the crows cackled.

Katara had disappeared.


	8. Chapter 8

* * *

**PART TWO**

* * *

"In my vast travels around the world, I have spoken with a huge array of experts from every nation in every part of the world, including spiritual guides, gurus, monks, sages, sisters, cultists and scholars, about the Spirit World. And in all my years of study, I can draw only one definite conclusion that all these holy, gifted people agree with when it comes to relations with the realm of the supernatural: _**T****he Spirits are not to be trifled with.**_**"**

Excerpt from _"On the Spirit World", _(unpublished) by Professor Emeritus Zei, Ba Sing Se University.

* * *

**Chapter Eight**

* * *

"Aang." 

Still no movement.

"Aang."

"Aang. Aang. Aang." Sokka repeated flatly, trying to hide the anguish in his voice. He hadn't listened. The stupid kid hadn't listened to him, after everything they'd talked about.

"He can't hear you," Guard Number Two said. "That gag is soaked in ether to keep the Avatar asleep."

Sokka rested the back of his head against the cold metal wall, chewing on his tongue. The dregs of the ginseng tea Iroh had brought lay cold in the pretty terra cotta teapot on the floor just beyond the bars, his own tiny cup drained. The Water boy stared at the pattern in the tea leaves left at the bottom and thought he could see a bird, its wings spread wide open, and maybe a laughing face. But he was probably just imagining it.

When the guards had dragged Aang's limp, singed body into the cell, Iroh had started, his face going very pale.

"He… he did it…" It came out like a question.

Two guards held the boy by the arms while another tied a piece of cloth around his muzzle. The little monk's ankles and wrists were manacled, the lead chain strung and locked to iron tether rings bolted to the floor. They locked the cell door. One Firebender with short grey hair relayed sharp instructions to post guards along the hallways to ensure the Avatar didn't escape_ this time_.

Sokka could see Iroh watching this all happen around him, unable to read the expression on the old man's face. He excused himself and left the Water Tribe warrior alone with his captured friend's body, Number Two and another masked guard who he mentally dubbed Three. He could only imagine the number of guards lining the hallway leading to the brig. Escape now would be impossible. As the activity in Aang's cell died down and the brig's outer door slammed shut, a deafening silence descended, a profound non-sound ringing throughout the metal corridors.

He looked over at the little monk's still body, wishing the boy would wake up so he could yell at him. All that training, all the preparations, the lecture, the promises…it had all gone out the window, and now they were heading to the heart of enemy territory. Why didn't Aang get it? Why had he come after him?

And Katara. What had happened to her? If she were smart, she would have taken Appa and flown away as soon as possible. Maybe she'd head home to the South Pole, or to the North, since they were so close. With luck, Zuko would let the Water boy go, drop him off that the nearest port…

And then what? Take Aang back to the Fire Nation? Let the world crumble beneath the heel of Fire Lord Ozai come summer's end?

"So what happens now?" Sokka said lowly, more to himself than to anyone in particular.

"Prince Zuko is out looking for the other one—the Waterbending girl," Three informed him. "She should be along shortly."

Sokka glowered at the empty-eyed soldier.

Then he did something he hadn't done in a very long time. He rested on his knees, closed his eyes and prayed to the Moon and Ocean Spirits, asking them to please pass his brotherly warning on to her. Preferably via a loud shout directly in her ear.

_Don't try to rescue us. I'll figure something out. If Zuko gets his hands on you…_

_Oh, Katara, you had better be in the air by now…_

* * *

Soft, fuzzy warmth. What a welcome feeling.

Katara snuggled down, wondering why her nose was so clogged. Oh, no. Maybe she had a cold. If that was the case, Gran-Gran would smear her with that awful-smelling mustard seaweed plaster that made her back burn, but which her grandmother swore would warm her through and burn the cold away…

Her hazy dream-reality brought her to a strange dichotomous place, snuggled in the warm, soft furs of her home in the South Pole, but in the arms of someone even warmer. She couldn't help the smile spreading over her face, though in the back of her mind she screamed hateful, awful things, even as she reached for him…

"Zuko…" she murmured.

And she was suddenly awake. She put her hand to her mouth, horrified that she had just said the Firebender's name out loud in her sleep.

Something wet and sticky smeared over her face. _Blood._ Tremblingly, she dabbed at her face, finding a warm trail running down her to her lips. She gingerly touched the bridge of her aching nose, but it didn't seem broken, just bloodied.

She could heal it, though. She just needed water.

Then she really woke up.

"Where…?" She stared around. She was in some kind of hovel, a one-room hut with a thatched roof. A gaping hole above revealed it was still daylight, probably late in the afternoon. The place was filthy, covered liberally with grimy bird droppings. A few vestiges of civilization told her a human lived here—a steel pot, a few rusted farming tools (or were they weapons?), a trivet, and bits of finished wood that might have once constituted pieces of furniture.

Katara slowly sat up, wincing. Her side was bruised, but a cursory examination told her there didn't seem to be anything else broken, fortunately.

And then it all came rushing back. A dizzying flurry of images assaulted her memory: _running, climbing, Zuko, wings, Aang, fire, rock, and then suddenly, air, wind rippling through her hair… _

She had fallen off the cliff…

"So, you're awake," a voice harrumphed from the shadows. Katara whirled, her head spinning horribly at the sudden movement. What she had thought was a pile of rags moved and brushed a dirty lock of hair from an equally dirty face.

It was a woman, long, grey matted dreadlocks obscuring her features. As spots danced before the Water girl's eyes, the woman shifted in her seat, revealing a huge black crow—or was it a raven?— perched menacingly on her hunched shoulder. The Waterbender flinched.

"Who are you and what are you doing on my land?" the old woman asked slowly, her raspy voice sounding like the creaking of trees in a high wind.

Katara faltered, trembling. "I…" She wiped away the blood trickling into her mouth. "My name's Katara, of the Southern Water Tribe. I'm traveling…was traveling with my brother and the Avatar."

The shaft of pale sunlight blazing briefly through the thick overhead cloud cover reached that shadowy corner and illuminated the woman's wild, gunmetal-grey eyes. "Well," she peered at Katara, "at least you're not a liar. I'll let you live for now." She wavered dismissively.

Katara bristled. "Who are you?"

The woman got up, the bird on her shoulder flapping unsteadily. "I have no name anyone cares to use," she said blandly. "Around here, I am known as the Witch of the Woods."

The Water girl blinked at her, feeling her inner Sokka surface, tepid sarcasm melting away some of the icy fear that crusted her heart. "You're kidding, right?"

Witch snapped her head around. "I'm asking the questions around here. You're only alive because I hate the Fire Nation just marginally more than I detest other people, so if you want to stay alive, tell me why you were stomping around my poor babies' rookery!"

"Rookery?"

"You were trespassing on their nesting grounds. You and all those Firebending scum." Witch spat on the ground. "You could have stepped on a nest, or worse! Crows don't just roost in trees, you know. And that foul little princeling chasing you certainly didn't give my brethren a second thought. He killed nearly a dozen of my kin today!"

Katara stared, her stomach sinking lower and lower. This woman was completely mad. "I-I'm sorry. He was chasing me…he's captured my brother, and now he has the Avatar…" she felt her eyes burn with tears. "Please, I have to go help them…"

The huge black bird regarded her coldly and cawed out loud. It leaned over and seemed to be preening the woman, but the Waterbender could see its long black beak snapping open and closed, a little pointed tongue flicking in and out, as though the bird was whispering in the old woman's ear…and the witch actually seemed to be _listening_ to it.

"Hmm," Witch grunted. "Bai-Bai here says you speak the truth. But he also says you're…_hiding _something from us." The woman darted forward like lightning, and suddenly Katara found herself face-to-face with her horrid visage. Up close, she didn't seem as old as her attire and hair suggested—her dark skin was wrinkled and spotted by the sun and the elements rather than by age. And she exuded a livid energy all about her, and intense aura of power that seemed the flare around her with the changing of her moods, almost the same way Aang's did, only hers was much more menacing.

But gods, was she ugly. Her eyes were widely spaced and bulged unevenly. Her nose looked as though it had been broken and healed mashed to one side. Witch gnashed her rotting teeth, a pink-grey tongue flicking out briefly, the corners of her cracked lips curving up. Only then did Katara notice the cruel-looking knife point under her chin.

"So tell me, Katara of the Southern Water Tribe," Witch drawled, pressing the rusty blade to her flesh, "what secrets does your mind hold? Or do I have to cut them out?"

* * *

Iroh watched the landing boats return, a little bead of apprehension rolling around his vast, hollow-feeling gut. He went below deck to meet his nephew as they embarked.

He wasn't prepared for what met him.

"Zuko…" Iroh took a step forward, but as the dank, fetid stench of bird feces hit him, he retreated, taking out his fan and waving it at the miserable-looking soldiers who were covered with downy feathers and white bird mess. "What…happened?"

Zuko's face was covered in thin scratches, his ponytail in disarray, his armour splattered with multicoloured poop, from mustard yellow, to forest green, to midnight black, to pure white and everything in between. The boy looked more upset than usual. Not just angry, but distraught.

"Zuko?" The prince stomped by and Iroh wrinkled his nose, grimacing. "_Holy sh—_" he gagged.

"Get these men cleaned up and have the doctor attend to their wounds," he ground out. "We're going back out after dark."

A low groan rumbled from the injured troops.

"Is that so wise?" Iroh followed at a safe distance from his stinking nephew. "Shouldn't we be headed for the Fire Nation? We have the Avatar. Your honour will be restored…"

Zuko stopped in his tracks. He didn't turn to look at his esteemed relative, and said lowly, "The Waterbender is still out there. If the men want to stay on board, then I'll go alone. But she's still out there. I almost had her. She couldn't have gotten far. It'll only take a night. If I don't find her…" He faltered, his whole body stiffening as though he had been stopped by a brick wall. Zuko took a deep breath and sagged. "You're right, of course. We'll set a course for…for home. Tomorrow."

Iroh stroked his chin. "Well, we'll have to stop to get supplies first. We'll need them if we plan on making the long trip back to the Fire Nation."

Zuko nodded, but still would not look at his uncle. "Do whatever needs to be done. I want to go home." He said it quietly, and for the first time, Iroh thought he detected the tiniest hint of doubt in his nephew's assertions.

Not that he was about to push the matter. "As you wish, Prince Zuko." Iroh used the honorific humbly. "And may I be the first to congratulate you on capturing the Avatar."

Zuko said nothing in return. Despite his great victory today, he looked exhausted. Defeated. Iroh watched his nephew stalk down the corridor, his unsteady step telling the old general all he needed to know about the drama in the woods. He tugged at his beard, deep in thought.

So, the girl had escaped. Or worse. And Zuko was bent on finding her.

Well, Iroh had never been one to deny his nephew anything. They would head home to the Fire Nation. In good time.

* * *

Zuko stripped out of his soiled armour with the help of a servant, who took it away to be cleaned while Zuko went to his private bath. He washed his hair out thoroughly, cursing the huge black birds that had resumed their attack on him and his men shortly after he'd lost sight of Katara. Despite a furious fire fight with the wily birds, the soldiers had to beat a hasty retreat. They had been outnumbered a thousand to one, and the birds were fanatical about protecting their territory, pecking and clawing and screeching and shitting on them. The crows had chased them out of the forest. _Their_ forest.

He cringed at the stinging cuts on his scalp and face as he poured water over his head. The doctor would have his hands full with the other men, so after he'd finished his bath, Zuko took out the small medical field kit he kept stored in his room and proceeded to dab each scratch with iodine. As he painted his wounds with the dark red-brown stain of the stinging tincture, he was reminded of Katara's dark mocha skin, and his throat closed up.

_She can't be dead_, Zuko told himself. He refused to believe she had plummeted to her death. There was no body. More likely, she had climbed the rest of the way up the cliff and escaped his notice. That must be it…

In which case, he had to get back out there as soon as possible to find her. She could get to the bison at any minute, and she'd come to rescue her brother and the Avatar…

Zuko stopped. If he was so certain she was alive and on her way to the ship to rescue her brother and the little monk, why was he so worried about finding her? The girl would not leave her companions. _How ironic_, he thought, as he cleaned his hands. _Now the Avatar is bait for the Katara…_

_But what if she's hurt? What if she's out there right now with a broken leg, bleeding to death?_

_She's better than that. She can take care of herself and her friends. She's proved that a number of times now._

_You don't know that. She doesn't have a master to teach her anything. She's nearly as helpless as that twit of a brother._

_He's not a twit. Don't underestimate him. Any of them._

_She's alive. She has to be._

_Are you so sure?_

_No._

_Why are you so worried? You have the Avatar. Your honour. Go home. Reclaim your throne. Your country._

_I will._

_When?_

_Soon. As soon as I have Katara back._

_You don't need her._

_No. But I…_

Zuko gripped the edge of the table, struggling with his internal dialogue. He sometimes thought that if he didn't keep his confounding, tumultuous emotions carefully bottled up, he'd start having these conversations with himself out loud. There was, after all, a streak of madness in the royal family. He just hoped Azula had kept it all for herself.

The prince considered his options. He could set course for the Fire Nation right now and get some distance between the ship and land so the girl would have no way to escape if she came after them on that flying bison. The beast surely wouldn't be capable of flying so far out over the ocean for an extended period of time.

But Uncle had said they needed to stop for supplies first…

Zuko nodded to himself. All right, then. He'd go into the forest and resume the search for the girl tonight. Not that he knew anything about avian habits, but those damn birds had to sleep sometime, right?

With that thought, the prince dressed, eager to be on the hunt once more.


	9. Chapter 9

* * *

**Chapter Nine**

* * *

Katara stood perfectly still, two pairs of eyes, grey and black, fixed on her. She swallowed dryly, feeling the rusted blade press against her delicate throat.

"I'm not hiding anything," she said slowly, evenly, trying hard to control the tremor in her voice. "I told you the truth. My brother Sokka was snatched last night by Prince Zuko of the Fire Nation. I went to hunt for him and left Aang, the Avatar, up in a cave at the top of the cliff. Then he got caught, and I tried to stop the ship, and they came after me."

Bai-Bai let out a shrill cry, snapping its big black beak at her.

Witch backed off an inch as she consulted with her familiar. An odd look passed over her face.

"There's a…hole in your mind," the woman said carefully. The knife disappeared in her rags as she grabbed Katara's chin and inspected her roughly.

"You…you can understand the birds…" the Water girl said when the hag let go.

Witch snorted derisively. "It took you that long to figure it out? Yes, yes, I can understand them, just as well as they can understand you and I," she retorted.

Katara blinked slowly at the bird. "He understands us?" she repeated slowly.

"Oh, much more than that." Witch smiled, revealing jagged, rotting teeth, stained and chipped from years of neglect. Katara pursed her lips, cringing inwardly. "Crows are very smart, but Bai-Bai here is special…like me." The crone's lips twisted wryly. "I'm not sure how to explain it so your little mind will comprehend…" she waffled, waddling back to her stool. She sat. "Let's just say Bai-Bai can _see_ into your mind. He doesn't always understand what he sees, but he can tell when someone is lying or hiding something. Right now, he's telling me you have a hole—like something's missing." Her gaze narrowed.

Katara eyed the bird, who glared back at her haughtily. She thought about the island, about the strange night no one would tell her anything about. She opened her mouth to say something when another pair of crows flapped noisily in, cawing loudly. Witch snapped her head around in alarm.

"What?" she barked. Bai-Bai flapped and joined his brethren on the rotting rafters overhead as his mistress got to her feet and listened to the report the birds made. Katara watched in fascination, wishing she were privy to the strange conversation.

Witch snarled. "Stubborn fool," she muttered, and turned to Katara. "It seems the little princeling has returned to shore. I wonder why he is so interested in you."

She kept her mouth shut, instinctively reaching out to feel the thread buried deep within her, the one that connected her to Zuko. Sure enough, she felt him approaching, but distantly. Her skin crawled.

The woman made her way to the door of the hut and was about to depart, but she stopped. "I wouldn't try to leave." She narrowed her eyes. "My brothers and sisters are everywhere, and they know you're an intruder. They didn't kill you because I told them not to. Not yet, anyhow."

She ducked out into the settling dark, leaving Katara under the baleful eye of the two newly arrived sentry crows.

She didn't want to risk another encounter with the birds. The fear of those sable wings, talons, and beaks overwhelmed the creeping sensation of dread that grew steadily as Zuko drew closer.

Dread…she wouldn't quite describe it as that, but she wanted desperately to believe that was what that weighted, magnetic feeling in her gut amounted to.

Hysteria had yet to seep in, and Katara busied herself with using the scant water in her water skin to heal her injuries and stave off real panic. The plan she sketched out for herself was rough, but it was there: help herself first. Figure a way out of this weird woman's prison. Then she could help Aang and Sokka.

* * *

Zuko trudged steadily on, retracing his steps through the woods by the dying light of the setting sun. The men had been spooked by the attack in the woods, and those who had accompanied him earlier that day couldn't (or wouldn't) go back on account of their hurts. Zuko decided it was just as well—he could move more swiftly on his own and find the girl himself.

Two soldiers stayed with the landing craft while Zuko crept into the forest alone, dressed in dark, close-fitting clothes much like those he wore as his alter-ego, the Blue Spirit. It made climbing up the rocky terrain easier, but it would offer little protection against the birds if they attacked again.

Fortunately, as he approached the approximate area where he had been ambushed, no attack came. As he had predicted, the birds were settling in for the night. The trees were quiet, though the stench of bird droppings still clung thickly in the air, as thickly as the strange, ever-present mist that settled over this terrain. An occasional rustle of wings and a soft caw made him look up a little tensely, but he seemed safe for the time being.

He walked on and found himself back on the path where he had last seen Katara. Circling the base of the cliff, he used a small fire in his palm to light the way and search the land for signs of the Waterbender. The ground here was hard and rocky. If she had fallen, she would have cracked her head open on impact. He found no gullies or caves or nooks she might have rolled into, nor was the ground soft enough in any place to have swallowed her up in a peat trap or in quicksand. Satisfied that her corpse was not lying somewhere nearby, Zuko began to climb, following the same rocky slope she had. He had a much easier time of it, since he was unburdened and had some height advantage, but about halfway up, he began to ache, and he stopped to rest, leaning against the vertical cliff face. How on earth, he wondered as he caught his breath, had Katara managed her scrambling ascent loaded down with a backpack of supplies?

The dark sloping land stretched out below him. From this height, he could almost see the waiting miniboat through the tree branches. He imagined he could see the two guards standing vigilantly by, but it was more likely that they were inside the boat's tiny cabin, trying to ward off the damp chill that clung obstinately to the land.

Except for the earthy stench of excrement, the crisp night air on his skin was quite invigorating. Zuko looked up at the sky, seeing the night's first silvery star prick the moonless expanse. He was suddenly worried about the Waterbender—with the new moon, she would not have her elemental powers at full strength, and depending on her situation, she could probably use them right now.

_Wait a minute, what am I thinking?_ Zuko shook his head. He was supposed to be hunting her, not worrying about her bending abilities. He got up and continued the trek upwards.

Unfortunately, after a few more minutes, the steep climb came to an abrupt impasse. He stood clinging to a nearly vertical rock with no handholds anywhere that he could use to get up. The path led nowhere, and there was no way the Water girl could have escaped this way unless she'd magically flown up.

That brought him back to the first horrible conclusion: that she had fallen and disappeared.

It was easier to climb back down, but Zuko was still winded and sore by the time he reached the bottom. His mind raced as it conjured up all kinds of horrid situations Katara might have gotten herself into. He paced about the base of the cliff once more, seeing if he had missed anything, and scoured his memory for details he might have missed in the frenzied chase. Could she have dodged at the last minute? Used some heretofore unknown Waterbending trick to escape?

Something skittered across the ground on his right. Zuko willed himself not to snap his head in the direction of the movement to give away the fact that he had noticed. He tracked the thing out of the corner of his eye, slow and slinky as it crept through the brush, following him along the path. He walked on cautiously, leading the thing up and on, then veered off to the left into a bit of a clearing where he stooped, pretending to inspect the ground for clues. His heart thudded loudly in his ears as the thing got closer and closer…

Zuko spun and threw a fireball into the brush. An unearthly screech pierced his ears and green eyes flashed as the creature bounded out of the foliage, its striped tail sporting a little orange flame where it had caught.

The prince stared. It was the Avatar's pet lemur, Momo. With a wave, he doused the flame on the little beast's tail and watched as the haggard-looking creature—with clumps of fur missing, his face scratched and the soft membranes of his enormous ears tattered—stumbled onto the ground, licking half-heartedly at his singed tail, whimpering.

Zuko took aim, ready to blast the pitiful creature into oblivion, but a little voice in his head that sounded oddly like his Uncle Iroh's clucked its tongue and berated him for attacking a helpless animal. He stayed his hand and frowned. Back on the cursed island, Momo had landed on the prince's head, keeping the Water Tribe boy from knocking it clean off his shoulders. He hated to admit it, but he owed the lemur his life. Whether the creature had done it intentionally or not was beside the point. According to Fire Nation tradition, he had a life debt to pay to this…thing.

Ridiculous! It was the enemy, and a simple beast. He should do it a favour by putting it out of its misery and…

Uncle Iroh's severe frown flashed in the prince's mind. He groaned to himself. Damn conscience!

He looked around cautiously to make sure no one would see what would come next.

"Momo," he called softly. The flying lemur looked up at the sound of his name. He blinked slowly at Zuko, unsure whether or not he had heard that right. Had the Firebender just beckoned to him?

"Momo, come here," the prince said more firmly, kneeling and extending a hand in invitation. He was glad now that none of the other men were around—he'd have a hard time explaining why he was making nice with the Avatar's monkey-thing.

The lemur regarded him warily with round green eyes. Resignedly, he slowly got on all fours and slunk toward the prince. Zuko watched with pity as the creature, who was limping a little, stooped before him, huge ears drooping, head hung low and his tail tucked between his legs in surrender. He looked utterly defeated, and the creature's desperate condition gave Zuko no sense of victory.

Hesitantly, he picked the lemur up, cradling it in his arms and checking over his body in search of serious injuries. Razor-thin scratch marks and a few puncture wounds told Zuko everything he needed to know.

"So they got you, too." He grimaced at one particularly nasty claw mark on the thin membrane of the lemur's left wing. Unsure of how he should continue his search for Katara with Momo in tow, Zuko sat on a rock and mulled it over, flinching in surprise as the lemur snuggled against him. He seemed to appreciate the body heat in these frigid climes, even if he didn't particularly care for the company.

The Firebender could continue to search the land, but the trail had gone cold and his instincts told him the hunt tonight would yield nothing. By morning, the birds would be fully roused, and he would have to wait till nightfall once more in order to continue the search for Katara.

Zuko rubbed his jaw tiredly. He had the Avatar, why didn't he just head home? That's what he'd been after all this time, right?

But every fibre of his being screamed for him to find the Water girl. If she was in any distress… Well, he didn't need to concern himself about that—they had evened the score. She had saved his life at Ho'Wan Island, he had saved hers at the cursed island. No, he owed her nothing.

But he couldn't just leave her.

All this indecision made his head hurt. Zuko stood, shifting the lemur in his hold, and walked back to the miniboat, sure that an extra day would yield an attempt on her behalf to rescue the Avatar and her brother.

That had to be it. She was hiding out, regrouping, figuring out a plan. And she was doing an excellent job of staying hidden.

She would come eventually. And Zuko would dispatch with her the same way he had dispatched with the little monk. Trying hard to shake off the last vestiges of doubt and trepidation, he strode purposefully away from the cliffs, Momo tucked in the crook of his arm.

Above him, a pair of grey eyes watched, deep in thought, as a great black crow on her shoulder whispered the secrets of the wind to her.

* * *

Shortly, they arrived back on the ship. Zuko was glad that his uncle had retired for the evening; otherwise he would have to explain why the crown prince of the Fire Nation was cradling the Avatar's flying lemur like a baby. As it was, the two soldiers who had guarded the landing boat were giving each other questioning looks, but neither of them dared to ask the Fire prince about the bloody, beaten animal in his arms.

He supposed he could have brought the creature to the ship's doctor for care, but decided he was better off seeing to Momo's wounds himself to avoid any questions. He dismissed the guards and went straight to his room, depositing the mewling lemur onto a table before taking out his medical field kit. Momo sat shivering on the table, too tired or scared to move.

Zuko set the cotton swabs and iodine out before him and gave the lemur a stern look. "I'm going to clean out your wounds. Hold still," he commanded, and began swabbing at a laceration under Momo's cheek. The flying lemur shrieked and shied away, but didn't leave the table. The prince snatched his hands away, afraid the thing would bite him. "Look I'm just trying to help!" he snarled. "So either be a good little monkey-thing and let me pay my debt to you, or just sit there and bleed all over my table."

Momo blinked at him for a long while. To Zuko's surprise, he hobbled forward and sat obediently before him, waiting, watching. The Firebender slowly reached out with the swab and this time, the lemur only cringed a little when the iodine made contact with his wounds. The teen held him firmly as he cleaned out all the other cuts, wondering how he must look next to the little beast—both of them covered in scrapes and stained red-brown with iodine. His lips twitched, and he had to frown severely to suppress the laugh trying to force its way out.

"Bunch of bullies," he muttered about the birds as he cleaned the last cut. He packed the med kit away and washed his hands. When he turned around, he sighed in exasperation: Momo was licking his wounds.

"Don't do that!" He swatted the creature lightly. "Your tongue's all dirty and you'll end up putting germs in—"

Zuko stopped. _What_ _am I doing? I'm talking to the lemur as though it understands me!_

Momo stared up at the prince with a look that said, "What? What do you expect from a lemur?"

"Well, if you're going to lick at something, here." He picked up a small apple from a bowl of fruit in his room and set it before the lemur, who pounced on it and began guttling it messily, taking big, pulpy, juicy bites. Zuko watched, mesmerized by the lemur's voracious appetite and its quirky eating habits. Despite the fact that the piece of fruit was almost as big as its own head, Momo deftly devoured the thing to the core in record time.

He let Momo finish eating as he changed out of his clothes and got ready for bed. Soreness was creeping into every muscle and joint, and his mind was raw and whirling with the day's events.

Had it really only been a day? Everything had changed so dramatically for him in the last twenty-four hours…and now he finally had the Avatar. He was going home.

The Firebender sat on his futon now, eyes glazed over, zoning out as his mind tried to find a place to rest. Though his body yearned to sleep, his brain would not let him.

He had the lemur and the Water Tribe boy. He had the Avatar. He was going home.

But he'd lost Katara.

Why did his mind keep returning to her? She wasn't so important to him that he'd let her escape stop him from returning to the Fire Nation right this minute…was she?

Angry at his own foolishness, Zuko threw himself into bed, not bothering to pull the sheets over him. He squeezed his eyes shut and forced himself to relax into the contours of his mattress.

And then something brushed his leg. His eyes snapped open and he looked down to find the lemur curled up by his knees.

"No! Bad lemur! This is my bed!" Zuko said, nudging the animal away. Momo hopped down again, mewing in dismay as the prince turned over and settled down.

A few minutes later, he felt the animal hop back onto the bed and nestle into the curve of his ankles. He emitted a contented little purr and snuggled up closer.

Too tired to remove the creature, Zuko allowed himself to drift into a fitful sleep.


	10. Chapter 10

* * *

**Chapter Ten**

* * *

Katara sat in the dark, the rich smell of decay burning her sinuses. She thought she'd be used to it by now, but a cool breeze leaking into the hut via the hole in the roof teased her nose with fresh air, making the nauseating stench hit her again and again with the same force as when she'd first awoken. Apparently, it was that bad.

The young bender had managed to heal her bloodied nose and most of the bruises on her body. The effort had left her exhausted and her water skin now hung nearly empty at her side, but at least she wasn't bleeding all over her soreness now. Tired as she was, she was too apprehensive to sleep. Aang and Sokka were trapped on Zuko's ship, and for all she knew, they could be on their way to the Fire Nation right now. On top of that, Momo was still missing and Appa was probably wandering around, wondering about Aang. If she was going to rescue the Avatar and her brother and keep her little family together, she had to act soon.

Aching joints and muscles protested as she shifted her weight, pacing the small, dirty space to get the blood flowing in her legs again. Her whole body begged her to lie down, but Katara really didn't want to relax in this hovel. Her surroundings left much to be desired. She'd even prefer sleeping outside on the bare ground to curling up on the nasty pile of rags speckled with white droppings she had woken up on. Unfortunately, her bed roll had been strapped to her pack, which she must have lost when she fell…

She shook her foggy head. It was a miracle that she had survived that fall.

Eyeing the door surreptitiously, she didn't wonder about the sentries in the woods Witch had hinted at. When Katara had tested the unlocked door, the two crows in the rafters flapped down, shrieking, pecking at her with shiny beaks and giving her what she considered mere warning scratches. As they warded her away from the exit, she could hear the restless shuffle of wings and warning calls beyond, and she shuddered. Sure, there were only two birds in here, and she supposed that if she was really determined, she could use Waterbending against them—but there was no way she'd be able to defend herself against a forest full of angry birds. They'd probably kill her. So she was stuck.

Despite the damp night chill, Katara was overwarm. Shock and fear had drained from her ragged soul to be replaced by a strange mixture of anger and giddiness that made her pace restlessly. She had to get out. She had to get Appa. And somehow, she had to rescue Aang and Sokka. But she had no idea how she was going to do it.

The sentry birds watched her steadily from above, occasionally preening their glossy midnight bodies, shifting from one foot to the other. They seemed to whisper conspiratorially to each other, their beaks crossing and clashing like little black sabres, tiny pointed tongues flickering out as they gossiped.

"I don't suppose you could let me out and help me find Appa?" she asked aloud. The birds stared at her a moment and turned their beaks up at her.

"Yeah, I didn't think so."

"Keep talking like that and you'll be moving into my neighbourhood soon enough." Witch's sudden rasp made Katara jump. The woman and her familiar had soundlessly re-entered the hut and was hunched by the trivet, setting a pot on the hook.

Something about the woman's demeanour had changed. She seemed a little more relaxed, and her lips were twisted into a parody of a smile. She stirred the pot thoughtfully before speaking. "The little princeling came and left. It seems he was rather adamant about finding you, but he settled for your flying lemur instead." Grim amusement flickered over her features as Katara's shoulders slumped. _Now he's got_ _Momo, too…_

"Tell me—" the woman looked directly at her, slit eyes shining with curiosity "—what _is_ your relationship with the boy?"

Katara frowned and looked away, avoiding the hag's scrutiny. "We have no relationship. He's been chasing the Avatar since we met him. That's all."

Bai-Bai crowed laughingly from a perch above the door. Witch smirked. "That's only a half truth, little Waterbender. Even you don't believe that. Mark my words; you have a connection with the Prince of Fire."

"That's ridiculous." Katara's reply was too quick, too emphatic. "Zuko's only obsessed with getting Aang..." She paused, thinking about how to explain what the Avatar represented to the Fire prince. "He told me once that he had to restore his honour—I didn't really understand what he meant, but as far as I can tell, capturing Aang had something to do with it."

Witch made a _hmming_ noise in her throat. "In the Fire Nation, honour is one of the most highly regarded virtues. To them, it is a worthy cause to fight and even die for…but it's not a cause without faults." She ladled some of the thin gruel from the pot into a wooden bowl and thrust it at Katara, who took it from her gingerly.

_I guess I've been upgraded from prisoner to forced guest_, she thought as she swirled the dubious-looking meal around the dirty, lop-sided bowl.

Witch continued. "Times have changed since the glory days—the days of chivalry and real honour, before the war began. A hundred years of bloodshed will make a man forget his humanity, not to mention his manners." She slurped her gruel noisily and went on. "Your prince—" she eyed Katara "—probably isn't obsessed so much with the Avatar as he is with the romantic idea of regaining his honour, if he has indeed lost it. If capturing the Avatar seems to be his only way of restoring it, then it's not difficult to understand why he is so obsessed with your friend." Witch peered at her over the bowl with a toothy leer. "Of course, a teenage boy can have…_other_ obsessions."

Impatience gnawed at the frayed ends of Katara's wits. She didn't know why this woman was holding her, didn't know how she was going to escape, and had no idea how she was going to rescue Aang and Sokka. And now, the crone was implying something the Water girl wasn't too keen on exploring about her relationship with Zuko. Obviously, this deranged woman wasn't simply going to let her go free. And yet, she didn't seem to be threatening her with bodily harm anymore. So why was she being kept here?

"Please," Katara began testily, "I have to go rescue my brother and the Avatar. I can't stay here much longer."

Witch raised an eyebrow. "What? Don't like the company?" Bai-Bai snickered along with the hag.

"Zuko's ship could be leaving for the Fire Nation any minute. If he gets out of sight, I'll have no way of tracking them!"

"He's not leaving." Witch waved her off dismissively. "Not yet."

"How can you be so sure?" Katara exclaimed, her voice bordering on hysteria.

The hag fixed her with a stern look. "Some answers are best left to the birds, my dear." Her lips twisted quirkily. "Now, it's late. If you really want to help your friends, the best thing to do is get some sleep and build up some strength for tomorrow."

Hope surged within her. "You mean…you'll help me?"

Witch sniffed. "I haven't decided that yet. But it'll do you no good to try to do otherwise. Besides, Bai-Bai here likes you," she groused a little jealously

Katara looked up at the huge black bird. He stared back and she felt herself warming under that hard, beady-eyed stare. The longer she gazed at the ebony-winged creature, the more her eyes drooped.

"Sleep, little Waterbender." Witch's gritty voice smoothed over like syrup. The cloying warmth of the hut flooded her senses and Katara sat down heavily on the pile of soiled rags, suddenly too tired to consider how filthy they were. She curled up on her side and laid her head in the crook of her elbow, eyes closed. As she drifted off, she faintly heard Witch cooing, "We have a big day ahead of us..."

* * *

"What do you mean the engine needs repairs?" Zuko gritted his teeth, staring at the mess in front of him the next morning.

He could tell by the building pressure in his head that it was going to be one of _those_ days. He wearily surveyed the brass, lead and steel bits neatly arranged on the deck on a giant piece of canvas. It looked as though the ship had disgorged all its innards, spilling them all over its own belly. The grease-covered engineer, along with several other cohorts, whistled tunelessly as they methodically cleaned and polished each nut, bolt, coupling, hose and ball bearing, scrupulously inspecting the pieces before laying them back down to bask in the wan sunlight.

"Not repairs. Maintenance," Iroh corrected as he sipped his morning ginseng blend. "The engineer said that our main boiler has been in dire need of a check-up. I figured, since we're in no rush now that we have the Avatar, we could spend a little extra time making sure the ship is in top condition for the voyage home."

Zuko drummed his fingers against his thigh, struggling with impatience, fury, and an odd sense of relief. This delay was completely unnecessary, but it would give him extra time to find Katara. "Very well," he conceded lowly. "But make sure he doesn't dally too much. I don't want to risk anyone else finding out we have the Avatar on board."

"Where are you going?" Iroh asked as the prince turned on his heel.

"To check on the prisoners."

* * *

Sokka stretched out on his back, sore from his night sleeping on the thin pallet in his cell. He blearily looked over at Aang, still lying on the cold steel floor. The monk hadn't stirred, it seemed.

A fresh guard had been placed in the brig; Sokka could tell because this soldier's right boot wasn't scuffed on the top the way last night's soldier's boot had been.

"Hello," he greeted flatly.

The guard turned his head slightly. "Hmph. So you're awake," he remarked idly. "Did you want breakfast?"

Sokka wasn't certain, but he had a feeling this was the first guard from the previous day—the same one who had untied him and let him use the facilities. "Well, I am in the mood for barbecue pork buns and fruit. Think you can convince the cook to send those my way?" the Water boy asked wryly.

The guard snorted. "You get to eat the same jook the rest of us do." As he said it, a second guard came in carrying two medium-size bowls of steaming rice porridge that had bits of fish in it. The guard slipped one past the bars and placed it onto the floor of Aang's cell and handed the other to Sokka through the bars. He looked down into his bowl, then over at Aang.

"I think my friend needs to see a doctor. He hasn't moved at all," Sokka said.

"The doctor came in last night to check on him. He's fine," the second guard who had given him his breakfast said. "He's alive, anyhow."

The Water boy scowled. "Well, couldn't you guys turn him over or give him a blanket or something? Look at him!"

"We don't have the key to his cell," the first guard explained patiently. "Only Prince Zuko and the doctor have access."

The door to the brig creaked open and heavy footfalls came ringing down the corridor. _Speak of the devil…_Sokka stood and prepared to meet his captor.

Zuko didn't even acknowledge the Water Tribe boy. He went straight to the Avatar's cell and peered down at the gagged and bound sleeping monk, eyes shining as though he was looking at some kind of legendary cursed jewel—yearning to touch it, but just a little afraid to. His hands flexed around the bars, knuckles turning white as he stood there, silently gazing down, applying a death grip to the steel lengths.

"What are you? Some kind of pervert who likes to ogle people while they sleep?" He sneered.

Zuko snapped his head up. His glare slowly morphed into a look of triumph. "Say all you want, peasant. I'm not the one behind bars." He tilted his chin up. "Besides, I'm sure your _sister_ doesn't mind being ogled."

Sokka refused to rise to the bait. Katara wouldn't have allowed Zuko to catch her. She was smarter than that. She would have found a way to escape, would have fought him tooth and nail… He looked the prince up and down. Not a sign of injury. She would have gone for the eyes first, just as he'd taught her, and even if she'd missed, there would be marks from her tough little fingernails. No, the prince didn't have her, Sokka reassured himself, ignoring the niggling doubt and tamping down his seething rage. He balled his fists and clamped his mouth tightly shut.

Zuko smiled snidely back. Something about the hard glint in his eye belied the Firebender's claim… But still…

_If he touches her…_

Without another word to Sokka, Zuko left firm instructions to the two guards to make sure no one came to see the Avatar unless they had his explicit permission. The guards acknowledged the haughty royal and he tromped out, slamming the outer brig door behind him.

"What a jerk!" the Water Tribe warrior burst out indignantly. There were about a thousand worse things he would have preferred to call the Fire prince, but he didn't want his black anger surfacing. Not now. At the moment, he needed comic Sokka to come back to him, to temper his mood, to keep him sane. To the guards he exclaimed, "A platypus bear has more manners!"

The soldiers said nothing, but he noticed how they both turned their heads ever so slightly, exchanging looks through their face plates.

"Heck, I've met hog-monkeys with more tact and less attitude...though I bet they both fling their fair share of feces," Sokka went on.

The guards trembled and they cleared their throats. Sokka could almost hear them grinning behind those implacable masks.

"I mean, that guy must have some major issues. What, did his father never hug him?"

Guard Number One laughed out loud, but quickly stifled his outburst, muttering a short apology.

Chalk one up for Sokka charm: the Water boy had just won his first point in his play for freedom.

* * *

When the dream manifested, Katara couldn't help but sigh to herself. They had all been strange lately, but this one seemed to be of the particularly freaky-weird variety.

She stood in a swamp—she thought it was a swamp, anyhow, but in addition to being boggy, the land was steep and rocky so that she floated (yes, floated) on ground that was both marshy and mountainous at the same time.

At the top of a hill before her stood a man, or what she thought was a man. The being towered above her, looming like a seven-foot-tall scarecrow, his broad shoulders slightly hunched. He was draped in a shining white cape that pooled on the ground. On his head he wore a white, oblong mask with an elongated downward-pointing muzzle. The eye holes were almond-shaped and empty. The being tipped its head to one side and peered at her questioningly.

"Um…hello?" she called, not sure what this dreamscape was supposed to represent or who this oddly-dressed person was.

The white being beckoned her forth with a twitch of its oddly-shaped muzzle-chin, and she drifted to him automatically. He stepped aside and revealed a huge gilded mirror, a beautifully ornate affair that was entirely out of place in this boggy setting. Katara stared at her reflection. It was just her, plain old Katara of the Southern Water Tribe. Her hair was a little mussed, but her face was squeaky clean, her complexion blemish-free. She smiled and her reflection smiled back. She stuck out her tongue and her doppelganger returned the sentiment.

Then Katara bent a water snake up from the ground—she'd never seen herself bend, and it would have helped with her form a lot, she knew, if she could just see herself. Looking up, she gasped, the streamlet splashing back to the ground. In the mirror, her form seemed to glow, age, transform. The sweet 14-year-old was replaced with a woman with long, flowing hair whipping about in an unseen wind. Her eyes glowed a menacing lightning-blue, her features twisted in pure hatred and fury. The water snake Katara had brought up became a glowing blue pike in her hands as she raised her arm—

The water girl couldn't move as she helplessly watched the slashing descent of the weapon, shattering through the mirror and ripping into her chest—

Katara sat up, crying out. The sound of dozens of wings taking off made her remember where she was, how she had gotten there… She touched her sweating brow, shuddering as the last vestiges of the nightmare slipped away.

Bai-Bai perched on the back of a rickety chair and called once at her, softly, dipping his head inquisitively. Witch was nowhere to be seen.

Katara looked up out the hole in the thatched roof and saw the blue-grey veil of dawn. She rubbed the sleep out of her puffy eye, trying to remember the details of the fading dream.

"At least it wasn't about Zuko," she muttered to herself. The huge crow made throaty, staccato guttural noises, as though it were chuckling.

"Well, they can't _all_ be about boys." Witch's voice startled Katara once again. The woman had appeared out of nowhere.

"How did you… Where were you…?" she spluttered.

"Eat." She shoved another bowl of gruel into Katara's hands. The Water girl hadn't eaten any of the food last night, and now she was famished. She tried not to look or taste the stuff Witch had handed her as she gingerly sipped and swallowed. It was lukewarm and a little salty, but she didn't want to analyze the flavour or texture of the meal any further than that.

Bai-Bai flapped his wings and soared down to land on Witch's shoulder. He whispered daintily in her hair.

"Hmm," the hag grunted, smirking. "It seems the princeling is still anchored in the cove. Apparently, they're doing some repair work on their engines."

Katara released a sharp breath. "Okay then. First things first. I need to find Appa—"

Witch cut her off. "_You're_ not doing anything," she said. "As far as I'm concerned, you're not ready to face a whole ship of Firebenders, much less one."

The comment rankled. "I've faced Firebenders! And I've dealt with Zuko before, too."

Witch gave her that _look_ again—that are-you-sure-you're-telling-me-everything look that, strangely, made Katara a little nervous. "You had the support of your friends and family before. Now you have no one," Witch pointed out, and the bender sagged a little. "Have you ever even fought the boy on your own?"

Katara chose not to answer. "I'll find Appa. He's a ten-tonne flying bison and can take the ship's crew out with one swipe of his tail—"

"Before the Fire Nation soldiers singe his fur off?" the hag interjected sceptically.

"Well if I can't help them, who will? You?" Katara shouted, fed up and cranky and angry at her own helplessness.

The woman's mouth formed a thin line. She looked thoughtful. "I haven't decided that yet." She tossed her head imperiously, as if she were a queen rather than a hermit.

"Well, make a decision already! Why are you even keeping me here? What do you want from me?" Katara shouted.

Bai-Bai cawed triumphantly.

"So NOW you ask that question?" Witch hooted cruelly. "It took you long enough. Really, girl, you have to be more direct about these things!" She chuckled as though this were some grand joke to her. "I was beginning to think you were completely blind to your situation. Do you never think about yourself?"

"I have more important things to worry about," Katara stiffened, anger and indignity coiling tightly in her gut.

The hag pounced on her, a wild look in her eyes. "Yes, I can see that you care very much for your companions. Family is very important, after all." Witch circled her with deliberate slowness. "But I wonder if you don't think about yourself often enough. Have you even stopped to consider your situation? What you might be doing for _yourself?_" She poked her hard in the ribs with one long, gnarled finger.

The Waterbender snapped back, "Aang and Sokka are trapped on Zuko's ship! The fate of the world is in the clutches of the enemy! There are more important things in the world than what _I_ want," she said emphatically.

"Martyrdom isn't the solution to everything." Witch sneered. She rocked back on her heels and let out a sigh, as though she were suddenly very tired. Her voice dropped an octave. "There are times, Katara of the Southern Water Tribe, when we must do things for ourselves and _only_ ourselves. To sacrifice your life and devote your existence to the wishes and goals of others may be considered noble and selfless…but it is also foolish. You might as well be a slave."

"I don't have time for lectures." Katara was fed up. She slammed her empty bowl down on the ground. "I have to save Aang and my brother." She got shakily to her feet.

Witch darted forward in a blur of movement, blocking her path. "I am _trying_ to teach you a very important lesson, little Waterbender." She fended the girl away from the exit. "I am _trying_ to tell you how to save your friends."

"What?" Katara stopped and backed up a step. "How?"

"There is a _hole in your mind_," Witch hissed rapping Katara's head sharply with dirty, knobbly knuckles. "Aren't you even curious about what it might be? Why the memories you are trying to recall have vanished?"

The night on the cursed island. The dreams. The sideways glances, the veil of lies…yes, Katara did want to know. But… "How is that supposed to help me save Aang and Sokka?"

"If you are willing and strong, if you think you have the gall to face the truth about what might have happened, then I can help you. More specifically, Bai-Bai can help you." She gestured at the huge, uncanny crow. "He has glimpsed what may have been, and can help you fill the gap."

"H-he can do that?" Katara asked sceptically.

"As I've said before, Bai-Bai is _special_." Witch glanced away evasively.

The Waterbender ran through her options. Go along with the crazy woman's insistence that she play her game, or go running half-cocked into a battle she knew she could not win without support?

"I don't have much time. Zuko's ship could leave at any moment—"

"Bah, that's taken care of." Witch waved dismissively. "I can guarantee you that he won't be able to leave for a while yet." She peered at the Waterbender closely. "Aren't you even the least bit curious about what you could find out about yourself?" She peered over her shoulder, as if sighting along some unseen path. Her eyes blinked rapidly and Katara wondered about just how crazy the hermit was. "I know I am."

So was that what this was all about? The old woman was simply curious about some crazy missing memories from a stranger's head?

Or maybe she was just lonely for company, Katara thought with pity. Either way, the Water girl didn't see any real alternative. If she acquiesced, she might win herself an ally, and a real shot at saving Aang and Sokka. If she didn't…well…

"Alright," Katara said finally. "I'll let the bird into my head."


	11. Chapter 11

**A quick note: fanfiction was asleep for a while during the holidays, and I did put up chapter 10 about a week ago. If you haven't read it...well, then, what are you waiting for?**

* * *

**Chapter Eleven**

* * *

The surprise Momo had left for Zuko clung stubbornly to the bottom of his boot. 

"I ought to roast you for this," he growled, scraping the stinking detritus onto the bottom edge of the door jamb. He couldn't really blame the lemur his indiscretion, though—the Firebender hadn't set out a litter box or let the creature out to do his business.

Momo regarded him coolly, not a tad bit ashamed.

Moving to the table where Momo sat, the prince brusquely inspected the lemur's injuries. After only one night's recuperation, he seemed almost normal, his cuts healing over nicely. The little beast had licked much of the iodine stain out of his fur, so it was hard to find all the major lacerations, but it seemed a lot of the cuts were superficial. His ears were still quite tattered and scabbed over, but at least the thing didn't look like he was on the brink of death anymore.

He picked Momo up like a small child, his long, curved legs dangling beneath him, and plopped him onto the bed, where he made a throaty chattering noise and sat gingerly on his haunches by Zuko's hip.

"Don't get too comfy," he said gruffly. "As soon as we get to town, you're going to become someone's pet…or dinner."

Instead of staying where he was, Momo climbed into Zuko's lap and looked at him expectantly. The prince automatically fell to stroking the creature's soft, tattered fur, and the lemur sighed and buried his face into his thigh.

"Yeah, yeah." Zuko couldn't help himself. "I owe you a life debt, blah, blah, blah…"

"You owe the Avatar's lemur a life debt?"

Zuko jumped straight up at the sound of his uncle's bemused voice and Momo shrieked irately at being so unceremoniously dumped from his happy place.

"You should shut your door more tightly." Iroh lightly stepped over the mess on the floor. "Otherwise he might escape out into the rest of the ship."

"I'm well aware of that, Uncle. I just stopped in to…" To what? Check on the injured lemur? Make sure the furry little critter was doing okay? To give him a shnuggly hug? "…to get my training clothes on." He hastily went to his wardrobe.

"What's his name?" Iroh lumbered to his knees and made cooing noises to the lemur, who watched him warily.

"Momo," Zuko mumbled. "_Not my choice,_" he emphasized. Because the crown prince of the Fire Nation would never have such an adorable, cuddly animal as a companion, much less give it a cutesy, androgynous name like Momo. Now, a twin-tailed hawk would have been more like it…

The old man chuckled delightedly and produced a biscuit from his sleeve (why he kept food in those dirty, billowing things that trailed around everywhere Zuko would never understand—this was Uncle, after all), softly calling the lemur's name. Momo crawled up to him and snatched the biscuit away, nibbling on it as Iroh rubbed his head. "He's been through a lot, hasn't he?"

"I found him abandoned in the woods," Zuko explained without emotion. Iroh waited for him to expound upon his life debt, and the prince reddened in humiliation. "Back on that island a few weeks ago, he…er…"

"Saved your life," Iroh finished for him. "There is no shame in admitting that, my nephew. You have done the right thing in paying your life debt before it accrues interest. Besides, he's rather cute."

Momo beamed as though he understood, his cheeks bulging with biscuit crumbs.

Zuko frowned deeply. "He won't stay with us long. When we get back to the Fire Nation, we can give him to someone else to take care of."

Oh great, he'd gone from selling Momo off as meat to taking him to his homeland to become someone's pampered pet. _I'm not getting attached to this thing,_ Zuko told himself firmly. _And if he poops in my room again, I'll feed him to the rhinos._

Just then, shouts on deck caught both of the Firebenders' attention. Out the long awning window, the pale sunlight dappled and then was completely blotted out by a chaotic swirl of darkness. An unearthly sound filtered through the glass. Iroh and Zuko hurried out of the room and emerged onto the deck to witness the bedlam raging about them.

"What's going on here?" Zuko bellowed, and ducked as black wings scudded over his head. He unleashed an indignant fireball after the bird.

"I don't know!" The engineer swatted a towel at the flapping over his head. "They just started swarming us!"

Iroh looked around, dazed. He pointed as he realized what was happening. "They're going for the shiny things!"

"No!" The engineer pounced at one bird lifting off with a brass O-ring. The crow dodged him and lumbered away with its prize. A few more made off with smaller objects by themselves—nuts, bolts, and some small lengths of tubing. But a few seemed to be trying to escape with larger objects, working in tandem to carry things five times bigger than them away without much success. It seemed their job was to divert attention away from their brethren who were stealing smaller pieces of the boiler.

Furious, Zuko unleashed a long jet of fire and sent the birds scattering, and the various Firebenders around him followed suit, trying hard to not actually hit their assailants—news of the uncanny attack in the woods had spread through the ship and had made everyone wary of the big, black birds.

Eventually, the crows dissipated, but not before they'd made off with a sizeable collection of small objects and had thoroughly doused the deck in white mess. The engineer yelled curses at the sky and began gingerly sorting through the mess as Zuko and Iroh picked their way across the ship.

"This is no good," the engineer complained. "I'm missing a third of the couplings and a good two meters of tube…"

"So replace them," Zuko gritted.

"We don't have the spares," the engineer said in disgust, then suddenly realized who he was talking to. More apologetically, he continued, "That is, not on board. We could salvage some things from the landing boats, but…"

"No. Take a boat and go into town and get what you need. Don't let anyone know what's happened here, either. I want this done as soon as possible, understood?" Zuko said sharply. The engineer nodded and scurried away.

Iroh tiptoed around a few scattered boiler bits and shook his head. "I guess our trip home will have to be delayed a while."

The prince thought for a moment that his uncle was actually smiling…but no. What would he have to smile about?

* * *

The cold wind up near the tops of the cliffs tousled Katara's bangs as she hiked up the slippery sloping path, scrabbling behind the surprisingly nimble hag. The wan morning sun's yellow rays revealed Witch's hut far below, nestled against a rich brown cliff side surrounded by a dense grove of dark green trees, their branches studded with nests and twinkling with great black birds. Despite the relatively mild weather, that uncanny silver fog continued to swirl around the land in thick patches. 

She realized glumly that she couldn't bolt now, not with those thousands of birds watching her and without knowing where she was. She thought that being this high up, she might be able to spot the cave Appa had been hiding in, but it must have been farther than she'd originally thought because there was no sign of the Air bison. And there was no telling how far Witch had dragged her to this place when she'd found her…

Katara's head fogged over. Exactly _how_ had Witch managed to get her to the hut? And just _how_ had she survived that fall from so far up? She shook herself and focused on the path, feeling distinctly uncomfortable with herself. Something wasn't right, something didn't fit…

"Where are you taking me?" she called over the whistle of the wind, mostly to distract herself.

"On a mind trip…to see the murder," Witch replied as they marched over the terrain, upwards to the crest of a hill.

Katara stopped in her tracks. "Whoa, I'm not going to watch while someone gets killed."

"Not that kind of murder, you nitwit," Witch growled. "A murder, as in a flock of crows. My family."

The Waterbender snapped her mouth shut and kept climbing. Now that she was out of the hut, she felt as though she should just flee and proceed to formulate a proper rescue plan to get Aang and Sokka off Zuko's ship, not follow some crazy woman up a hill to do gods-knew-what.

But as much as she wanted to reverse direction, she couldn't. Something kept tugging her along, like an invisible leash, her desire to escape a muted thought in her addled brain. The force of it was almost as compelling as her link to Zuko. She walked on, all the time thinking, _Gods, what am I doing? I have to find Appa and Momo! I have to save Sokka! I have to rescue Aang!_

They reached the hill's rocky apex, and the Water girl paused apprehensively. The grassy plateau, not much larger than about half of the enclosed portion of her village in the South Pole, was covered in a sea of silent black birds surrounding a single, small, gnarled tree jutting from the uprooted stones beneath. Something didn't look quite right, and the Water girl realized it was because they all faced toward the center of the ring instead of against the wind to keep their feathers from ruffling.

As Witch approached, the crows parted, shuffling or hopping awkwardly aside, the sea of shimmering black and sable drawing back to reveal the nearly-dead brown-green grass beneath. Katara followed the woman hesitantly, her every movement watched by hundreds of pairs of beady black eyes.

The hag stopped by the tree and stepped up onto the natural dais of the upraised grey stone. A loud flapping had Katara looking up just in time to see Bai-Bai's massive form descending to perch on the woman's ragged, outstretched arm, an inky black shadow against the pearly sky. For the first time, Katara got a good look at the creature's massive wingspan. He was definitely one of the largest birds she'd seen around these parts. Almost comically oversized compared to the other crows, in fact.

Without any preamble, Witch began.

"The murder is here to bear witness," she proclaimed, throwing her arms up dramatically, more to the birds than to Katara. "Spirits: we ask for your wisdom and guidance. Help Bai-Bai on the journey into this Waterbender's mind. Help the seeker find, and the quester rest."

Katara looked around her, expecting something to happen. The birds simply stood there, unblinking. Slowly, as a single entity, they simultaneously turned to face into the wind. She looked over her shoulder, looking in the direction the birds were facing.

Nothing.

She sighed, feeling a headache strike between her eyes, and slowly turned back.

_Hmph. Well, I guess that cinches it. The woman is completely and irrevocably craz—_

Bai-Bai let out an unnatural screech and unfurled his wings, spreading them out to their full breadth. The tips of those feathers seemed to elongate, eclipsing the space around them until it was like night. Katara felt her eyes go wide, seeing the depth of blackness within those feathery folds of onyx.

And then the bird was diving at her, shrieking a charging clarion Katara felt she understood:_ I come, I come, be prepared…_

The Water girl opened her mouth to scream and covered her head with her arms, waiting for the assault—

But none came. The rush of wings beat all around her, a symphony of fluttering and flapping loud in her ears. Vertigo gripped her briefly and she felt her stomach somersault. Her feet felt as though they left the ground momentarily. When the moment passed, she uncurled her cowering form, cracked an eye open and gasped at the landscape. The wind had died, the crow-covered plateau no longer there. Where Witch and the gnarled tree had been stood the figure from her dream—the masked man in white.

The Water girl trembled, her knees knocking absurdly before she righted herself and calmed her galloping heart with a deep breath. This felt much more real than a dream. She could feel the swamp water she was standing in pool inside her leather shoes, but it was almost as though the water evaporated as it touched her skin, leaving ghostly impressions all over her body. And though she could feel the humidity and smell the bogginess of the air, those sensations, too, drifted away from her like perfume on a cool wind.

The white figure bobbed briefly to her, almost a mock curtsey. Though he wore a mask, she had the impression he was _smiling—_no,_ grinning _at her.

Katara had never been to this place in this life, but the realm was too hauntingly familiar to ever forget, even as a transient from a past life. She found her voice and croaked. "I…" She cleared her throat. "I'm in the Spirit World, aren't I?"

The masked man nodded once slowly.

The Waterbender didn't know whether or not she could relax. Had she died? But no, if she had, she was sure there would have been forms to sign first, or a loud declaration of her living impairedness before she was able to enter the Spirit World…

She shook her head, clearing the cobwebs in her mind. This must have been part of the "mind trip" Witch had told her about (all too briefly). Getting down to the task at hand, Katara addressed the figure. "Witch said Bai-Bai would help me find my lost memories….help fill the hole in my mind. Can you help me?"

The white cape suddenly unfurled, its silky length thrown noisily behind the man's broad shoulders as he rolled them back. It turned out he wasn't seven feet tall, as he was in her dreams, but just average height, about a head and a half taller than she. Beneath the cape, Katara saw he wore a plainly cut white robe, but it was so intricately embroidered that she could spend decades studying its pattern and find no repeating segment. It was the most captivating blend of chaos and order, unremarkable and dazzling all at once.

She was so enthralled by the stitch work that she almost didn't notice the enormous crow that had flown from the furls of the cape to land precariously on her shoulder. She started, making the bird wobble on its sticklike legs.

"Whoa, easy there, Ocean Eyes," Bai-Bai said. "Settle down or I'll have an accident."

"Uh…sorry?" Katara blinked at the talking crow. Her brain was slowly adjusting to the strangeness all around her. That the crow was now speaking—or really there, for that matter—somehow didn't shock her or reduce her to a gibbering mess.

"No worries," the crow replied nonchalantly, "I'll get my sea legs soon enough." The bird _winked_. And for some reason, Katara blushed.

The man in white shook his masked head and gestured at them.

"He wants you to follow," Bai-Bai indicated.

With no other option, she walked after him, trailing in the wake of his long, straight-backed gait. "Who is he?" she asked the bird in a whisper.

"Your Spirit guide," the crow replied. "He'll make sure you don't get lost while you're here."

"I've seen him before…in my dreams," Katara remarked as they followed the tall, silent man.

"I'm not surprised. He's one of the Keepers of Dreams and Memories. He helps keep important things in order."

Katara looked at him for further explanation. Bai-Bai preened.

"See, humans think and experience a lot of different things. But they can't keep it all in their head—they're not crows, you know." He chuckled throatily. "So memories get stored away in the Spirit World. Dreams are kind of a way to experience some of those memories and thoughts and feelings, but they get gummed up by all the crazy things humans do and think about. That's why dreams are so weird sometime. The Keepers try to make sure things don't get too mixed up, and try to make sure you don't lose your memories, either. If he showed up in your dreams," Bai-Bai indicated their guide, "he's probably been trying to tell you something important. I mean, aside from, 'Hey beautiful, how about having dinner with me sometime?'"

Katara giggled. She couldn't help it—she'd been chewing on the edge of hysteria since Aang had been captured, and now this bird's flirtations were shoving insanity directly down her throat.

She laughed to herself for a while as they walked, passing ancient cypress trees draped with feathery, clinging moss and ropy vines that brushed ghostly fingers over her. Motes of light danced around her head before flitting off into the mist. She felt light-headed and flighty in this place, and was almost certain she'd wake up any minute now. But she didn't. The flexing of Bai-Bai's talons, digging and pinching into her shoulder, told her this was no ordinary dream.

"So, where are we going exactly?"

The bird gave her a bemused look. "Where else, beautiful? To find your missing memories."

That wasn't the answer she was looking for, but the glint in the bird's eye told her any other silly questions she had would be met with sillier answers, or possibly more unnerving flirtation. They walked, climbing an increasingly steeper slope through the hilly swampland. Katara felt the there-not-there sensation of the slippery terrain beneath the soles of her shoes, but kept moving, the hem of the man's white cape hovering in her line of sight as he moved easily upward with great, long strides. Though she felt no real fatigue, she couldn't help but think how much she hated rocky slopes now that she'd been climbing so many of them over the past two days.

"Not to sound snide, but I thought _you_ were supposed to be my guide," Katara said to the crow after a lapse.

"I'm a translator," Bai-Bai said with a shrug, and Katara accepted his answer without further comment. The crow tipped his head to one side. "You know, for a human, you're pretty okay with all this Spirit World stuff."

"I've been travelling with the Avatar for a couple of months now. I've had lots of weird stuff happen to me." She shrugged with equal detachment. "But I gotta say, this is pretty close to being the weirdest."

The crow chuckled lowly. Soon, they reached the plateau of the hill, dry and clear of vegetation and debris. The Spirit Guide beckoned to Katara and she joined him in the middle of the field.

With a flap of his white cape, the masked spirit presented a full-length mirror to the Waterbender that hadn't been there before. It wasn't the ornate gilded frame she'd seen in her dreams, but she knew it was the same mirror and recoiled from its silvery surface.

"No way am I looking in there. This was in my dream, too." The Waterbender stayed out of the mirror's line of sight, knowing what she would see. "There was a woman—"

Bai-Bai stroked the shell of her ear, resting his smooth beak against her temple.

"It'll be okay. I won't let anything happen to you," the crow whispered reassuringly. The soft huskiness of his voice made her shiver, its timbre eerily familiar. Suddenly, she realized she'd heard it before…

_Perhaps, in exchange, I can restore something you've lost…_

She swallowed dryly and turned her head slightly to regard the bird, but he was just that: a bird…albeit a giant, talking Spirit-Guide bird. He wasn't Zuko. He'd just mimed his voice with perfect accuracy.

Katara's skin tingled.

Bai-Bai went on, still using the prince's soft, beseeching tone: "If you really want to find out what happened to you, look in the mirror."

She hesitated. She didn't want see the crazed-looking woman who had stabbed her in her dream.

Then the Spirit Guide/Dream Keeper extended a hand, radiating warmth and comfort. He seemed to glow with well-meaning, and Katara could somehow sense that his mischievous grin had transformed into a patient, benevolent smile.

With Bai-Bai's promise and the Keeper's soothing presence, she took a step forward, then another, watching as her reflection hove into view. It was a little odd to be looking at herself in a mirror in the Spirit World, and wasn't even sure if what she was seeing was the real her. For one, Bai-Bai was not in the reflection. The Katara in the mirror looked thinner, older, but more virulent somehow. Surely this was not the Katara who had left the South Pole a few short months ago? She stared at her reflection awhile and gradually felt herself relax. Nothing else was there. Nothing else came.

A cool breath stirred the hair around her neck and she jumped, whipping away from the touch, causing Bai-Bai to complain loudly. Katara stumbled backwards, bumping into the mirror and tripping, landing awkwardly on her rump.

"Really, dear. You're more nervous than long-tailed blue nose in a room full of rocking chairs," the young woman who'd been standing behind Katara smiled grimly.

The Waterbender stared. It was her, the crazed woman from her dreams. She scooted three paces away from her on her backside. "Who…who are you?" she cried softly.

The woman gave her a quizzical look. "Dear, don't you recognize me? I've been with you for weeks now."

Katara gaped, baffled. "What?"

She smiled tightly. "I'm Avatar Karanna."


	12. Chapter 12

* * *

**Chapter Twelve**

* * *

Katara felt her knees wobble. She stuttered. "You…what do you…how can you…?" 

"Yes, Katara. I am the spirit who haunted Lian Island—the, er, cursed island, as you call it," the woman said. She had long, auburn hair and dark mocha skin, darker than Katara's. Her blue eyes shone with happy recognition, but there was an aura of elusiveness around her; her not-quite-being-there was probably a contributing factor.

Bai-Bai cawed. "My lady Avatar," he stretched his wings and bobbed in a kind of avian obeisance. "Bai-Bai, at your service."

"Yes, I've met your other half," she gestured at the Spirit Guide, who bowed likewise. "Or is he your better half?" she teased.

Katara was baffled. This dream/spirit-encounter was officially too weird to comprehend. "But Bai-Bai…you said you're just my translator."

"I am," the crow said cheerfully, "but you didn't ask me about what I _actually_ am."

"Two sides of the same spirit," Karanna injected calmly. "Bai-Bai exists as two forms. His corporeal crow form—" she indicated the crow "—and his Spirit Realm incarnation." She gestured at the white-clad masked man. "Two halves of one being. Without the other, neither would exist."

"You're…you're a spirit." Katara slowly caught on, but her face scrunched up in confusion. "And…Witch?"

"My familiar," Bai-Bai clarified a little sheepishly. "She's one of the only people on earth who can understand me and my kind. That's why I brought her to the mountain sanctuary. To protect her."

"Protect her? From what?"

"From her flock…er, people," the large crow explained. "You see, her ability to communicate with the Corvidae—that's crows and ravens to you—frightened the other members of her village. Aside from her physical deformities, they feared and shunned her because didn't understand her gift. You see, crow-talkers are only born every one thousand years, and rarely do they understand their abilities themselves. Witch is the first crow-talker I ever made contact with. I met her when she was still a child, and checked in on her periodically as she grew older.

"She had not been doing well. The people of her village had begun blaming every bad occurrence on her; failed crops, infant deaths, sickness… They called her a witch, an unnatural being, and threatened her and her family. Eventually, she was abandoned by her own kin. I could not stand by and let further harm come to her, so I brought her to my mountain sanctuary. She is now a part of my flock, my family. We protect each other from predators, watch out for each other's eggs and chicks, and she helps keeps us fat and strong with suet and seed from the town."

Katara swallowed a lump of guilt and remorse for the woman named Witch. No wonder she hated people. She'd had to flee, leaving her home and everything she knew because no one understood her abilities...

"Katara—" Karanna caught her attention again before her brain went spiralling off into oblivion "—I can understand how this is all very overwhelming, but there are a great many things I need to tell you, and we don't have much time. I'm still trapped half-in and half-out of the Spirit Realm, and I need you to cut me loose."

"What? I don't understand," Katara said plaintively, looking between the three spirits. "I came here because…"

"You don't remember anything from your night on Lian." Karanna finished for her. She pierced her with an intense look "Katara, you _do _know what happened, but you're not letting yourself remember. I've been trying to get through to you over the past few weeks through dreams, but you've been as thick as permafrost. You're not even paying attention to all the hints, are you?"

The Waterbender hedged. She forced her mind through a pinhole and focused on that night on Lian, on the gap in her recollections. "I…I don't…"

"You're in the _Spirit World_, Katara. Aren't you a little bit curious about how you got here, since the _Avatar_ is supposed to be the bridge between the realms? Aren't you wondering how it is you've been able to keep track of Prince Zuko since your departure from Lian? Why you can feel him drawing nearer to you? Have you even figured out how Witch and Bai-Bai found you? How you survived that fall off the cliff?"

Katara felt like she was drowning. Her head started to throb, as if the world were pressing in on her skull. Karanna reached out and touched her face with a cool, not-quite-there hand. "Yes dear, you _do_ know. Don't force it away. Don't force _me_ away."

She gazed hazily into those blue eyes, so like her own, and blinked slowly…

_Ebony feathers and wings, a storm of crows and claws, and suddenly she was falling through open space…and a hundred thousand faces and lives swirled through her, a hundred thousand lifetimes of experience, and more…_

Katara sucked in a cold breath.

_And then there was a surge of wind beneath her, like she _was_ air herself…and so much more. She wasn't just the air, but the water and the earth and the fire of the sun…And in a moment of understanding so pure and clear it could only have emerged from a mountain spring in her mind, Waterbending wasn't a skill—it just _was_. The mist blanketing the land rushed and congealed around her, grasping her with liquid fingers, delicately holding the girl aloft. And Airbending _was_, too, and then she was soaring through the air, the wind billowing her up, higher and higher so she was placed atop the cliffs beyond where humans could climb, the gale pushing the avian attackers away without harming them…_

The air in Katara's lungs escaped in a whoosh, her blood rushing through her veins potently. She almost laughed in delight, except that the fear clutching her heart stunted any joy she might have felt otherwise. Was that what flying was like for Aang?

The images flashing through her brain changed.

_A pool. A waterfall. Warm days on paradise. The sea breeze blowing in through the trees. A hot sun on her shoulders. Kisses trailing down her neck. Green eyes that smiled. Green eyes that melted into gold ones, harsh and bright and terrified and overjoyed and devastated._

Katara gasped and felt woozy. The nausea brought on by dread churned her stomach, but she didn't know why she was feeling such trepidation. Bai-Bai flapped off her shoulder and landed on his ivory counterpart's outstretched arm as the Water girl staggered and collapsed on the ground. She panted, eyes shifting, sorting through the myriad images bouncing through her suddenly open mind. Squeezing her eyes shut, she shook herself.

"Oh…oh gods…"

_A man. A lake. _

_Firebenders! _

_Blood! So much blood…_

Katara let out an anguished sob and she clutched her suddenly tight chest. Blue lightning seared her mind and she reeled, pressing the palms of her hands into her eyes.

"Nooo…" she cried on a soft breath.

_Anger. Terrible, cold, unforgiving wrath. The elements at her control, but especially water, _her_ element, patient and fluid and relentless—drowning, freezing, cutting a swath through the earth as easily as a straight razor through flesh. The honed blade of her vengeance would bite slowly, though, for there would never be enough pain for the _traitor_, never enough…_

_Until…_

"…_Zuko…"_

Spoken aloud, the word was balm. Her mind cleared, the fog of memories scattering like a puff of smoke. A kind of humming reverberated through her soul. The stream of tears suddenly stopped. Her taut muscles relaxed.

"I…" Katara gaped, staring blindly at the ground between her clenched fists. Slowly, she stood, knuckling cold wetness out of her eyes, and looked up at Karanna, appalled. "It was you. It was all you. All this time, you've been inside me…" The invasion made Katara feel wholly defiled. The Avataress—that _murderer_—had been inhabiting her body and mind all this time, lurking like a voyeur, accessing her dreams, her thoughts, her fantasies...

A sudden memory cut through all the other emotions sliding through her. She inhaled sharply, slapping a hand over her mouth. "You…you made me kiss him," she whispered numbly.

The spirit woman nodded. "It allowed me to feel love again…to remember something other than hatred and vengeance and cold fury against those who had wronged me…wronged _us_." She meant her long-dead lover. "When I let go of all that, it freed the trapped souls from the In-Between," Karanna explained calmly, referring to the people who'd lost their lives on Lian and had been cursed to a cold, grey nether realm, "and I was allowed access to the Spirit World, except—"

"You made me kiss Zuko!" Katara exclaimed. She swiped a ghostly hand over her lips, which suddenly felt dirtier than the rest of her. "How could you do that to me?"

Karanna's wicked smile did nothing to assuage Katara. "What? Tell me you didn't like it."

"I don't even remember it!" she lied. "And he's Fire Nation! And he's trying to kill Aang! And—"

"And nothing, Ocean Eyes," Bai-Bai said. His counterpart crossed his arms over his chest, one hip hitched up sardonically. "Don't try to hide your feelings from the Keeper of Dreams." He switched to Zuko's husky drawl. "We _know_ what you think of that prince."

Katara felt her cheeks burn. "I don't think—"

Karanna smiled. "It's alright, Katara. Your feelings are understandable. You're a beautiful young woman growing up in the company of mere boys, while Zuko is a handsome young man with ambition, and a powerful bender, to boot…"

The words shook the Waterbender to the core. Aunt Wu's prediction stood out in sharp relief on the surface of her brain. "I am _not_ marrying Zuko!" she cried, ready to start tearing her hair out.

Karanna barrelled on. "I know what you're thinking. You've been wondering if the feelings you've been experiencing are your own, or have been caused by some other paranormal force…such as myself," Karanna pointed out. "Admittedly, if I were several hundred years younger, I might consider your Zuko…but frankly, there's only one man for me, and he's long gone from your world, and waiting for me in my own."

Well, that answered one of Katara's questions. Her Zuko—_her_ Zuko? she cringed at her chosen distinction—was not a reincarnation of the Avatar's dead lover, any more than Katara was a reincarnation of the Lady Avatar.

Karanna went on. "Katara, I'm giving you a chance to figure out for yourself if this Prince Zuko is the one for you."

The Waterbender threw her hands up angrily, emptily. "All this time, you've been manipulating me, using me for your own ends! I won't have anything to do with you anymore, so why don't you just leave me—"

"Katara," Karanna cut through her tirade. "The Avatar and your brother are on Zuko's ship. If you want to save them and give me my peace, I need your help. You're the only one who can do this."

"You're trying to manipulate me," she charged, too indignant to listen.

"Avatar Karanna might be able to help you save your brother and your friend. Please, listen to her," Bai-Bai urged.

"I meant you no ill will, and I have not been controlling you in any way," Karanna said quickly. "Aang is in danger, and the fate of the world is in real jeopardy. You see, just as there is a hole in your memories, there is a hole in the Avatar's chain of experience. Aang didn't know me when we first encountered each other, but now I have a chance to rejoin the cycle, to add my power and wisdom to the collective, to help the Avatar in his mission. I can help save the world, Katara, and I can help you, too. But I need you to trust me. Please."

That made her still. The Waterbender looked from Karanna to the Bai-Bai duo and furrowed her brow. What choice did she have, really? She couldn't go against the Avatar's request to help her, and Aang needed all the help he could get. The alternative would be to have her haunting her for…what? Eternity?

It wasn't so much that helping Karanna irked the Waterbender: it was that she had the vaguest inkling of what it would involve. No doubt her instincts had been a by-product of the Avataress's looming presence. She frowned deeply. All this time, she hadn't been her listening to her own gut feelings: it had all been Karanna's back-of-the-brain advice—_her_ wisdom, _her_ experiences.

Thinking on what she'd said about Zuko, that feeling of dread and excitement invaded her gut once more. She sighed. Witch was right: sometimes selflessness was just plain torture, even if it was necessary. But this was as much for herself as it was for everyone's good. She let out a long breath. "Alright. What do you need me to do?"

* * *

To Sokka's relief, a doctor came to check on Aang just before lunch and assured him he was alive and well. The Water boy was touched and confused that the Fire Nation physician was so careful and caring in his ministrations. Somehow, he'd thought—and deep down inside, secretly hoped—that the man would be a brute he could easily hate, but Dr. Sheng was just…well, _nice._ At Sokka's request, the doctor gently moved the Avatar onto a bed, tucking a blanket over his body as if he were his own son. 

"He won't be revived until we reach the Fire Nation, but I will check in on him and feed him," the doctor said as he closed up his bag. He regarded Sokka with shining eyes. "As for you…well, you seem healthy enough. Unless you have any injuries you need looked at?" Sokka shook his head no. "Then I'm sure you'll be released before we reach the Fire Nation."

Sokka's look of contempt at the mention of their destination made the doctor's smiling face fall.

"Is there anything I can get for you? More blankets? More food?" Sheng asked.

Sokka blinked owlishly even as saliva pooled in his mouth. "Wait, you'd get me more food?"

"Contrary to popular belief, we don't starve our prisoners." The physician sniffed. "Besides, a growing boy needs to be fed. Why, I'd say you're about Zuko's age, give or take a year, and I know how much he ate when he was sprouting." The doctor slapped a palm over his mouth and Sokka smirked. "Oh, dear, I probably shouldn't be talking about him like that. In any case, I'll make sure you're fed."

The doctor hurried out, and Sokka looked over at the guard, who he was certain was Number One. "Big eater, that Zuko?" he asked the Fire Nation soldier.

There was a pregnant pause. "You wouldn't think it, being raised with princely manners. But yeah, he can pack it away when he thinks no one's looking," One said.

The other guard, who Sokka didn't know and who seemed to be just filling in for the extra long shifts the three soldiers had endured over the last three days, snickered and said, "More frequent meals, smaller portions. That's how he hides his appetite. Almost like General Iroh…only he eats frequent meals with _large_ portions. And he _doesn't_ try to hide it."

Sokka laughed.

The door suddenly slammed open at the far end and the guards jumped to attention. Only one person made them act that way.

"Get up, peasant." The prince came tromping down the hallway, all snort and fire. To the guards he barked, "Shackle his feet and wrists with hands in front. I have a chore for him."

The guards did as they were told, and Sokka was weighed with heavy chains which he jangled around noisily. He grinned wryly at the young Firebender. "Zuko, I'm touched. You find me _that much_ of a threat?"

The Firebender clenched. "Move it, scum." He shoved the boy ahead of him, and the two boys were followed out by Guard Number One.

He didn't argue. He was eager for a change of scenery, a chance to see the sky and feel the sun, however weak it was. For the first time in thirty-six hours, Sokka stepped outside and breathed in fresh, clean—

"AUGHH, what's that STINK?" He gagged at the overpowering smell of fetid, rotten _something_ and held his nose awkwardly, looking about. The deck gleamed with drying bird splatter, and for a second, it felt as though he were back in the South Pole, seeing the snow-covered plains stretched out before him. He looked down and wrinkled his nose at the mess on his boots. "Zuko, _really…_I thought you had more control than this! Now you'll have to go back on diapers."

Zuko glowered at him. "We'll see who's laughing later, peasant. Now start mopping."

"What?"

A servant brought a mop and bucket and Sokka groaned loudly.

Zuko smirked. "You wouldn't want to leave this mess for your sister to clean up, would you?" the prince said lowly. Sokka glared daggers at him, but caught a nerve jump on the side of the Firebender's jaw. Sokka read the tell with the keen eye of one skilled in bargaining and reading people.

He grinned inwardly. The prince had no idea where Katara was, and could hold no threat over his prisoner.

Still, Zuko sneered. "Do a good job, and I might even consider letting you have a bath afterwards." He walked away stiffly, the set of his shoulders telling the Water Tribe boy he hadn't derived as much pleasure as he would have liked by assigning this nasty task.

Not that it made the job any better for Sokka.

He frowned. Grabbing the mop, he glared at Number One, who, despite the face plate, was obviously laughing at him as he began swabbing the deck.

To ease his irritation, he imagined his sister on Appa's back, sticking her tongue out at Zuko as she soared away into the sunset.


	13. Chapter 13

* * *

**Chapter 13**

* * *

"You can't be serious." 

Katara had finished listening to Avatar Karanna's solution to her dilemma and now she stared at her, mouth slightly agape.

"Deadly," the woman said. She pursed her lips. "That wasn't meant as a joke."

Katara shook her head and began to pace nervously. "Look, I know things were different when you were a girl, but I'm still only 14. I can't…that is, I can't do _that_ to Zuko. I wouldn't know how!"

"It's the only way," Bai-Bai intoned soberly. "I had a chat with a very knowledgeable owl spirit who has some books on the subject of spirit appeasement and release…"

"What?"

Bai-Bai shook his head. "Never mind. Anyhow, if you want to break the tie, you'll have to break Zuko's heart. He's the anchor that's holding Karanna here, and you're part of the tether. In order for her to fully transit to the Spirit Realm, you need to sever the connection."

Katara started pacing again. She had no idea how to go about breaking hearts. She'd had her heart broken before (damn that Jet!) but she hardly knew how to turn that play around. Coy, she could do. Flirt, you betcha. Tease and tantalize…well, Sokka wouldn't be too pleased to hear it, but Katara had flexed those muscles often enough.

But to shatter a young man's hopes and dreams? To rip out someone's soul and stomp on it? Even if Zuko deserved it…well, did he deserve it? Katara wondered to herself, feeling a little queasy as an unpleasant shiver raced through her spine.

"This saves you, but how will it save Aang and Sokka?" she asked brusquely.

The Avataress dithered. "You'll have to figure that out on your own," she said a little awkwardly. "But I'll be with you. And I can help you, if you let me."

Katara threw her hands up, making a noise of disgust, more than annoyed that her Spirit cohabitant did not, in fact, have a solution to her more immediate problem—how to free Sokka and Aang. She only needed Katara to free her from her ghostly limbo.

Bai-Bai quickly added from the shoulder of his white-robed counterpart, "It's important you do this, Ocean Eyes. It's the only way we'll be able to save the Avatar, as well. I'll be there to help, too. And so will Witch."

Her ears perked up. "You'll convince her to help me?" Being the only one of her newfound allies who was not an ethereal being or a giant Spirit bird, Katara would welcome Witch's involvement.

"Oh, she'll help you, alright," the crow assured her with a wink. "You just need a plan."

"Katara." Karanna placed a cool, wispy hand on her shoulder. "I mean it. I'm with you, but you haven't been listening to me."

She flinched at the Avatar's cold touch. "What do you expect me to do?"

"Open you mind," she implored. "Let me through, and I can show you how to Waterbend like a master—like the Avatar, the greatest of masters! Haven't you always dreamed of that?"

_Like the Avatar…_ Katara instantly recalled her gruesome nightmares, the glowing pike that Karanna had wielded in her wrath that had torn a hole in her chest… And she remembered Sokka and Aang telling her about how the Avatar's fury had killed dozens of Firebenders and imprisoned the Earthbender, Fonquay, for hundreds of years….

"No, that's okay," she said abruptly, pulling away from the ghostly contact. "I'll be fine on my own."

Karanna looked sad. "You're never on your own, my dear."

Bai-Bai's head snapped up abruptly. "The sun's at its zenith. Time to go."

Katara scrambled. She'd hardly had any of her questions answered. "Wait, what am I—"

And the world around her began to glow blue-white, until the brightness overwhelmed her vision. She cried out sharply, then struggled as gravity seemed to press down upon her. Her head spun along as the tentative Spirit ground was yanked out from beneath her feet, and she tumbled slowly, as though through water, as the light glowed hotter and brighter.

Reality bit down hard on her as a rough, solid hand shook her by the shoulder. The smell of rotting meat wafted to her nose.

"Girl, get up. You're back in the real world," a harsh voice rasped.

Katara opened her eyes and squinted against the glowing disk of the sun overhead. She was lying on her back in the middle of the grassy plateau with Witch kneeling over her, her slightly askew bulging eyes watching her crookedly. Her head ached, and her skin felt tight and bloated with sensation.

"Wha'm'I…doin…" she slurred groggily. Witch propped her up and handed her a water skin. The Waterbender drank from it gingerly, wrinkling her nose at the mossy flavour of the warm liquid within.

"Had quite a trip, huh?" Witch cackled and rocked back on her heels. "Must have been one heck of a conversation you had. It's around noon now." She stood as the huge black crow Bai-Bai flapped in, alighting on her shoulder as though he had just flown in from somewhere else. He winked at Katara before beginning a secretive, breathy dialogue with the old hag. Katara didn't understand him anymore, and found she kind of missed his odd sense of humour and soothing voice.

"Hmph," Witch grunted. "Well, it looks like I've been drafted to help save the Avatar." The woman grimaced in resignation and yanked Katara roughly to her feet. The Waterbender shook her head, blinking owlishly as spots bloomed before her eyes.

"Y-you're going to help me? Just like that?" She tried to suppress the excitement in her voice.

Witch cut her a haughty glare. "If there's one thing I know _not_ to do, it's disobey a direct order from the Spirits." Her brow wrinkled in consternation, seemingly appalled that Katara didn't know this simple fact. "If ever you encounter one, _don't mess around with them,_" she said pointedly, and began climbing back down the path to the hut. Katara followed in silence. The woman grumped, then asked peevishly, "So, do you have a plan for getting onto that Fire Navy ship?"

"You mean it's still in the cove?"

Witch grinned mischievously. "Not forever, but my brothers and sisters have done a good deal to delay their departure." She explained the crows' penchant for shiny objects and what the birds had gone through to secure a portion of the boiler, which had been very conveniently splayed out on the ship's deck for their perusal.

"Were any of the crows…your family, injured?" she asked, concerned. Now that she knew how much the birds meant to Witch, she understood why the old woman had been so upset by her presence in the rookery.

"Nothing serious," the hag said after a thoughtful pause. She turned softer eyes upon the Waterbender, appraising her with a look that said _thank you for asking._ "A few singed feathers. Nothing that my brothers and sisters didn't get back at them for. They'd eaten a rather larger meal before their expedition, after all." She cackled wickedly.

The Waterbender smiled at the picture in her mind. She imagined the soldiers covered in bird poop—but at the same time, having been attacked by the uncanny birds herself, wondered if everyone aboard was alright….

That is, she worried about a few particular someones.

Okay, so she was wondering about a_ particular_ someone.

Sobering, Katara looked out over the trees and across the horizon to the distant cove where Zuko's ship was anchored. She couldn't see it, but the feeling in her gut—that thread of connection to the prince, the _tether_ that now felt like a steel cable in her mind—told her with no uncertainty he was there.

To Witch, she said, "I haven't got any ideas just yet. But I'm working on it."

Bai-Bai cawed.

"He says you got what you needed. Filled up that gaping hole in your head." Witch rapped on her own skull.

Katara's lips quirked as her mind ran over the fragments of conscious moments from that night on Lian Island. It was like reviewing a long, deep dream just after she'd awoken; but the snippets of memory she could now access were about as clear as the world seen reflected on the concave surface of a spoon. She knew now that she'd been "asleep" most of that night, hovering near the edge of death and beyond. She remembered the strange vision-dream she'd had while in that precarious limbo world, and even remembered her brief visit to the In-Between. But the night itself—and Zuko's and Sokka's and Aang's part in it—remained a mystery. Those weren't _her_ memories, after all.

And then, out of nowhere, _the_ memory hit, and the force of the kiss she'd shared with Zuko slammed into her, sparking bursts of pleasure in her blood. The memory felt remote, though, as if she were only a spectator to it, but she knew it had been her, and it was still as potent and—her face curdled in horror—_arousing_ as if she'd really been the one kissing him...which, technically, she had. That probably explained why her lips were remembering that soft, slippery warmth, the salty-sweet taste of his mouth…

In an effort not to look so befuddled, she forced her memory to jog backwards, wearing Karanna's skin as the Avataress had worn hers and distancing herself from those recollections. She remembered standing in a pool, healing Zuko, drawing poison from his wounds. She'd moved him there, into the water… She'd woken up beside him, seeing his broad and well-define chest straining like a haunch of meat in a small burlap sack, which happened to be Sokka's old sweater. She could see he'd been through an ordeal, his legs injured, his body covered in cuts and bruises. Her own clothes were torn…

_Poison,_ she'd thought about the inkling of viscose fluid she'd drawn from his wound. _A deadly venom from a scavenger spider on Lian…_

But how had they arrived at that point by the waterfall? She'd been at the camp before passing out. She searched her mind, but no answer came.

Bringing herself back to the present, she filed her thoughts away for later. At least she understood now what was happening to her. But her jaunt to the Spirit World hadn't helped her much with her current problem, just added a new one. And now it was up to her to save them all.

She answered Witch under her breath, "It's filled up, alright."

"Not happy with what you learned?" Witch asked snidely.

She thought about it. She didn't think she could possibly be happy until she, Aang, Sokka and Momo were safely riding Appa's back and flying north. After all she'd been through in the Spirit Realm, she'd ended up with more questions than answers, more problems than solutions. "I have to figure out how to sever my spiritual connection with Prince Zuko," Katara said plainly. There was no point in hiding the truth from this uncanny woman if she wanted her help. "Avatar Karanna told me that in order to do that, I have to break his heart."

"Ahh…" Witch made a noise of understanding and clucked her tongue. "So _that's_ what that is." She paused on her descent and turned, squinting. "I wasn't sure, but…"

With a start, Katara realized what Witch was saying. "Wait, you can actually _see_ the connection?"

The hag shrugged. "Plain as day. I just didn't know what it was." She kept on moving down the hill.

"Wait a minute! You can talk to Bai-Bai, a mortal Spirit, _and_ you can see…um…?"

"Other-worldly connections?" Witch filled in for her. "I can, and I do."

"Why didn't you tell me this before?"

Witch frowned. "You didn't ask."

Exasperated, Katara rolled her eyes heavenward and cursed.

"So, you have to become a heartbreaker," Witch announced derisively. "How do you intend to accomplish this? Or will it be as simple as going over there and telling the boy you don't like him?" Her cracked lips curved into a suggestive smile.

"I don't!" Katara asserted loudly.

"Riiiight." Witch hit the first plateau above the hut and stopped again. "I think there is another option. Instead of severing the chain, why not make it easy on yourself and just give the anchor a heave-ho?"

The Water girl balked. "What do you mean?"

Witch crossed her arms. "Oh, come, come now. Don't play naïve. You said you don't care about the boy. Surely it's not above your innocent little mind to simply _do away_ with him." She made a snappy chopping motion with her hand.

Katara blanched a little. "I don't…"

The woman blazed to life. "For Spirits' sake, girl! He's Fire Nation! The spawn of Ozai! His people killed the Airbenders! They're the ones who started this war! They're killing Earthbenders and Waterbenders! That boy is your enemy!" Witch advanced on her, eyes bright with fury, spittle flying from her mouth. Katara backed up against the rough cliff face. "He has your brother and the Avatar, and if you free them now, he will only continue to pursue you. Why not be rid of him altogether?"

"That just isn't how I work," Katara insisted firmly. "He's just a boy—"

"Who won't hesitate to kill you and yours when he's grown up and ruling the Fire Nation. People like him don't care about little people like you and me, girl. If you want to survive, you either kill or be killed, or you throw on a wolf skin, join the pack and play the game and make do until you can make sure every last cub is dead."

She bristled. "Is that what you've been doing? Collaborating with the enemy?" Katara turned on the old woman. She couldn't take her jibes and attacks anymore, and her resentment, stemmed over days with superhuman patience, pulsed hotly within her. "How dare you suggest I commit murder while you lounge out here and do nothing, hiding away from this whole damned war! At least I'm trying to do something about it!"

Witch sneered, ignoring the dig on her choice of lifestyle. "Killing that little princeling would be justifiable homicide."

"No. No, it wouldn't be. His might be the face of the enemy I see in my nightmares, but he doesn't deserve death. I don't care what Zuko's done in the past, or even what he might do to us later. He's a boy, just like my brother, and he's caught in this war just like the rest of us. You said it yourself! Kill or be killed or play the game. That's what I'm doing. That's what Zuko's doing. That's what you're doing. We're all…"

Katara suddenly stopped. The wind tousled her hair loops and rustled the green silk of her Kyoshian outfit. Her mouth gaped wordlessly a moment, and Witch watched her with uncertainty.

"Playing the game…" she said on an exhale. The Waterbender's eyes flashed.

"I've got it!" Katara exclaimed, her heart thundering with hope. She barrelled on down the path, followed briskly by the annoyed hag. "I think I have a plan…."

* * *

Sokka looked around him, wiping the back of his grimy, manacled hand across his sweating forehead, stretching his aching back and neck. The deck was scrubbed, all traces of the bird mess cleared off. It had taken him most of the day and several dozen buckets of water, but he'd managed to clean the ship's expansive deck to Lieutenant Jee's satisfaction. 

The gruff, short-haired Firebender had been given charge of supervising Sokka in his task, and he had been merciless in his scrutiny, handing the Water boy a toothbrush when he found bits of the white feces lodged in the grooves between the ship's steel plating.

"You call that clean? What kind of soldier are you? No wonder your people are losing in the war—they don't even know how to scrub a deck!" he'd shouted. But at least the Firebender didn't kick him or try to hurt him, or call him a savage Water Tribe peasant, which surprised Sokka.

When Jee inspected the deck a second time a few hours later and found no complaint, the Water boy nearly beamed when he grumbled, "Hmm. Knew you might be good for something."

It was stupid, Sokka knew, to feel anything but hatred for these people. But he couldn't suppress his pride entirely. With some effort, he rationalized that being the eldest male of his village for so long had left him no one to look up to. And now, suddenly, he was surrounded by father figures, brothers in arms, skilled warriors, guys he could almost admire for their strength and discipline and courage….

But they were still his jailors. His enemies. Sokka clung desperately to this notion, the very foundation of his existence, his being. This was war, and the Fire Nation was the enemy. _They_ had killed his mother. _They_ had taken his father away from him. _They_ were the reason he had no father figures, no brothers in arms, the reason he was out on this insane quest to save the world at the tender age when he should have been hunting tiger-seals with the men of his village and flirting with girls.

These men, when faced with men of the Earth Kingdom or Water Tribe, would not hesitate to kill. They were soldiers. It was what they were trained to do, and who they were in body and essence. He fumed at his own lapse in judgement and swore to himself that if and when the opportunity came, he would make sure Zuko and every last man on this ship would never give anyone trouble ever again. Until that time arose, though, he'd make sure Aang was kept alive and well, and ensure Katara was kept out of these grubby men's hands. He'd scrub and smile and joke and dance for his dinner. He'd be charming and witty and win enough friends who'd trust him, who'd look upon him and see only a harmless little Water Tribe boy who was eager to go on adventures around the world—even to the Fire Nation!

And then he'd strike. Justice—_his_ justice—would be as swift and cold as a sudden blizzard on the vast, icy wastelands of his home.

No, these men could never, _never_ be friends with him and Sokka could not and would not look up to them, no matter what their qualities. Not until this stupid war was over. And even then, how could there ever be forgiveness?

"You there," Jee said gruffly. "The engineer's assistant has more cleaning duties for you. You're to help him scrub the soiled boiler parts and assist him in any way you can. Only after your duties with him are complete will you be fed, understood?"

"Yes, sir." Sokka responded sharply and without complaint. Like a real soldier. Like one of the boys.

Jee arched a thick grey brow at him and waved him away with a bit of a snort. Number One corralled the boy down into the belly of the ship.

Now here was an opportunity, Sokka thought boldly. Of course, he didn't know if anything he saw in the boiler room would help him sabotage the ship (though the birds who'd made this mess seemed to have done an excellent job of that already) but he was willing to lick the parts clean if he thought he might gain some kind of advantage over his captors. That no one seemed to think he was capable of sussing out the ship's inner workings either told him it was a hopeless cause, or that they underestimated him. Either way, he would do this with a smile.

* * *

Katara walked across the gravely shore of the cove, feeling her gut clenching with dread, her heart thumping in her stomach, and her nerves stinging with prickly anticipation. After a long discussion-cum-argument with Witch, the woman had finally agreed to go along with her plan. 

"And people think I'm insane?" she had grumbled. "You've either got more guts than you let on, or a mad streak a mile wide." But she'd agreed to go along with it. The woman seemed committed, too, by the set of her whiskered jaw.

Bai-Bai calmly circled high above, watching the scene pan out below. His job was simply to observe and report. If he or his brothers and sisters could play a greater role, they would. But they wouldn't know until the moment arrived.

It wasn't too late to abandon this insane plan, Katara told herself, marching steadily on. She could walk back into the woods now and come up with a different idea. The soldiers on Zuko's ship might not even have spotted her yet, not through this uncanny fog and with her green Kyoshian garb on.

The Fire Navy vessel was anchored in the cove, about two hundred metres from shore, an ominous beast at rest. Katara could see nothing happening on deck at the moment, and no klaxon's sounded as she stopped at the edge of the surf.

She could run. She could leave right now.

But there was no other way this would work. She had to get on that ship _now_.

Taking a deep breath and steeling herself for the trial ahead, Katara began shouting Zuko's name across the water.


	14. Chapter 14

**Welcome to Part Three of this epic! Thanks for hanging in there, because now the real Zutara stuff begins!**

**Special thanks to Plunkqwette who drew some fanart for me! See it at www. deviantart .com / deviation / 46592114/**

**And thanks to everyone who's reviewed and pointed out those typos and errors that keep slipping past: just to clarify, no, Witch and Karanna are not the same person--that was a typo. My bad.  
**

* * *

**PART THREE**

* * *

"Rain. You either hate it or love it. And it's never that you always hate or always love the rain, because it has its own moods, its own guises. 

"We've all had our shares of "bad" rain: those interminable wet, grey days that seep into your skin and hair and bones, making life miserable for everyone. Sometimes, instead of actual drops, a soupy vertical-moving fog will mist up your face, cling to your clothes, and soak you just as thoroughly as a torrential downpour would, given time. The elderly and ailing bemoan their aching joints and migraines, children become restless with cabin fever, and the rest of the world grumbles as their day gets progressively soggier.

"Winter rains are mostly just frustrating: Little razors falling from the sky that refuse to morph into their more benign cousins, snow, scratch at your face and skin with scathing, burning claws. It's the kind of rain that wears you down until you're raw, both physically and emotionally. The cold makes being out in these frigid showers unbearable and dangerous—because while things might seem okay looking out from the inside, you instantly regret stepping into that hostile environment, and usually end up tiptoeing about because the ground is slick with black ice.

"Angry rains are the kind you want to stay out of entirely, though the occasional buffoon will try to prove his virility by weathering it. Less common are howling typhoons and monstrous hurricanes that will indiscriminately level anything in their path. More frequent are thunder and lighting storms that, while not as destructive, can leave behind a legacy of repercussions—consequences sometimes unseen and unfelt for a long time.

"But such is the nature of water damage.

"Of course, there are also 'nice' rains; like the sudden summer shower that comes out of nowhere, vigorous, potent and brief, catching you unawares, drenching you in a warm bath of fat, sun-soaked drops. It's the kind of rain you end up kissing your lover in because neither of you could have foreseen something so wonderfully spontaneous; a downpour so passionate and intense and sensual—the water drenching you completely, sluicing down your body, soaking you both to the skin—that you barely come to your senses long enough to seek shelter.

"There are rains that sparkle in silver light and dance against the panes of the world—the kind you watch through your window while you daydream; the kind you'll happily walk through, umbrella in hand, because there's nothing quite as refreshing, nothing that'll make you really appreciate the verdant land around you, as a light drizzle in the springtime. They're thoughtful rains, rains with purpose that do not exceed their intent, even if puddles and minor floods might result. But that would hardly matter because you've cheerfully decided you were going to mop the floor anyhow, right?

"Mind you, none of these rains elicit the same reaction in every single person. Some people revel in the violence of a lightning storm; some despair during the briefest of summer downpours. But one thing is for certain: _rain doesn't care what kind of day you're having_. If you're not prepared for it, the damage it can wreak on your person, your property and beyond can be devastatingly irreversible. And no matter how happy or angry or sad you might be feeling, rain will fall, and there's _nothing_ you can do to stop it.

"Perhaps the trick, then, is to try to appreciate all rains—because you'll enjoy the sunny days more when they come..."

Excerpt from _"Musings on Precipitation", _(unpublished) by Professor Emeritus Zei, Ba Sing Se University.

* * *

**Chapter Fourteen**

* * *

Iroh hastily knocked and opened the door to Zuko's room before the prince could answer. 

"I wouldn't interrupt your meditation if it weren't important," he said before his nephew could protest, "but you should come on deck. The Waterbender girl is on shore, and is requesting a parley with you."

"What!" Zuko surged to his feet, pushed past his uncle, and ran out onto the deck. His heart pounded in his ears, buoyed by sheer relief. He'd suppressed his despondency and dread all day, refusing to believed she'd perished—and for once in his short and tragic life, his optimism had paid off. Katara was alive. The thought alone was a balm, a cure, an end to the mental wound blistering within.

Emerging on deck, the cold, wet air nipping his bare skin, Zuko scanned the shoreline avidly, trembling, every sense on high alert. Sure enough, there she was, alone, a slender girl in green and brown who looked as though she was standing on the water, the thick mist swirling at her feet. Relief and joy and anger and frustration and triumph crashed through him, an emotional tidal wave that sent tears to the corners of his eyes. He gripped the railing to still the tremor and clenched his jaw as he stared, making sure she wasn't some kind of mirage. _She's alive, she's alive…_his heart sang, but he refused to listen to the overwhelming urges sliding through him anymore. She was alive, he confirmed calmly, coolly. Good enough. But now what?

Iroh appeared at his side. "What do you want to do?"

Zuko hesitated, narrowing his gaze in thought. Why was she calling for him? Could this be a trap? Maybe that giant flying bison was waiting in the trees, ready to stomp him as soon as he put a foot on shore. "I'll go with one guard and agree to the parley. Perhaps she is surrendering."

Of course, she could also try to hold him hostage in exchange for the Avatar, but she was no threat to him, he was certain. Not physically, anyhow. Besides, the rules of parley had to be upheld, and that meant no harm would come to either party during their conference. But his intention was not to harm her. Far from it.

"More likely she will try to bargain with you." His uncle's gravely voice broke into his thoughts. "I'd advise you to be careful, Prince Zuko. Do not underestimate her."

"I never do," he muttered as he headed below deck to board the remaining landing boat, impatient to get to shore.

* * *

Katara watched the miniboat glide toward her, the chugging of its engine loud but dull in the heavy mist. She fought the rising urge to dash back into the forest, and planted herself firmly like a rod in the dirt, grinding her heels into the gravel, straightening her back, and holding her chin high. In her mind's eye, the thread of connection thickened and became like a rod of steel pushing through her core. She closed her mind to it and focused. As far as she could see, it was only Zuko and one other soldier, who was steering the craft. 

The boat slid to a tenuous stop, plowing into the sand and silt and sending up dark clouds in the clear waters. Zuko didn't wait for a plank to be lowered and simply swung himself over the railing, landing in the knee-deep shallows with a resounding splash. He slogged to shore, eyes fixed on Katara, his lips pursed into a thin line twisted tightly up in one corner.

She swallowed dryly, her mind rolling through each and every occasion they'd ever had contact. But this was the defining moment, the moment she'd been secretly dreading and dreaming about: her first real one-on-one with Prince Zuko. She suppressed the rumbling low in her gut and steeled herself to meet the enemy.

The Prince's eyes were narrowed and bright like shiny little dagger points, and he seemed to take her in with one cursory pass of his flinty gaze. He stopped three feet away from her, still standing in the surf, the tide lapping at his boots. The smirk widened. "I have your brother," he confirmed snidely, his voice husky and thick with triumph, _"and the Avatar."_ He extended a hand in invitation, his look smug. "If you come along quietly, I will make sure you are treated well."

Oh, but it would have been so easy to raise the waves and let Zuko be pulled out to sea in a riptide, she thought acerbically. Katara swallowed the hot bile rising to her throat. He hadn't even declared the terms of the parley, as was customary between communing enemies. He'd gotten straight to the point. The sheer arrogance the young Firebender exuded nearly pushed her into throwing a furious tantrum, but she knew her role. She had to play it cool and meek.

Shrinking into herself, she turned her gaze away, hugging her arms, doing her best to look small, vulnerable, and wholly appealing to the male senses. She softened her voice, pitching it up an octave. "And what then? Would you take Sokka and me back to the Fire Nation? Make us your slaves? Throw us to the coal mines?" She gave him her best pitiful moue, though all she felt was anger. More quietly, she said, "Would you execute us?"

She could see Zuko tense, the furrows of his pale face smoothing over as his eyes widened slightly. He bit out, "The only thing I want is to go home and reclaim my honour and my throne."

"And Aang is the way you're going to get it back," Katara confirmed quietly. Zuko nodded once in acknowledgment. She searched his face, tracing the shiny pink scar glinting in the hazy late-afternoon sun, a yellow-white globe that tried its best to burn away the clinging, silvery fog. She swallowed and forced the next few words past her lips. "Zuko, I'm begging you. Let Aang go. He has to end this war and restore order and balance to the four elements. He's the only one who can."

Zuko's temper literally flared, a wreath of flames flashing around him briefly, making Katara jump back in surprise. "I'm not concerned with the war. I've been in exile for more than two years, and I won't be denied my rightful place any longer!"

Katara looked down and hugged herself tighter to contain her rage. What kind of egoistical, self-centred brat was he that he thought he could turn his back on the affairs of the world and his own people, who suffered for the Fire Nation's conquest? He sounded like a petulant child, she mused darkly. Even so, she shied from him, squeezing caustic tears out of the corners of her eyes, telling herself over and over that she had to look afraid, defeated, even though she was anything but.

Witch's awful face flashed briefly in her mind: _Surely it's not above your innocent little mind to simply do away with him._ It wasn't. But that was not part of her plan. Killing Zuko would not help Aang or Sokka.

Her next words were grated out, a hoarse sound that made her sound distressed. "Zuko, I'm desperate. I have no supplies, and no way to escape this place. Appa is long gone, and I have no way to find him. My brother is the only remaining member of my family left to me. Please, I'm begging you, let him go, at the very least, so that we can be together."

His reply was firm. "No."

Time to bargain. "Then take me instead. I will take my brother's place in the brig. Do with me as you please, but I'm begging you, let Sokka go." The words tasted like sour blood in her mouth. She forced herself to step closer to the prince, to look up into those two pools of vitriolic yellow.

Zuko eyes shone with uneasiness. It seemed he hadn't expected this selfless offer to exchange places with her brother. He looked a little shaken by it, even. Then he clenched his fists, a muscle jumping at his jaw, and glanced away. For a moment, she thought he might actually accept her offer. "I'm sorry, Katara," he said with quiet finality. The sound of her name, spoken so softly and with such tenderness, made goose bumps stand out all over her body. "It's over. Come with me and I will take care of you."

_I will take care of you. _Spoken thusly, she felt some small, puerile part of her squeal with girlish delight. What little girl hadn't dreamt of a prince saying those words to her? An idiotic giggle threatened, but remembering herself and clinging hard to the hatred coursing through her blood, Katara let out a single sob and crumpled, falling to her knees on the gravel, face buried in her palms. Her shoulders heaved with silent sobs and she blubbered just a little.

The Fire prince didn't move for a minute. She could still see his feet soaking in the tide and absently wondered if the boy was always so careless about his footwear—didn't he know the water would ruin such fine leather?

She heard him make a noise of disgust, or possibly resignation as he stepped forward. Rough, warm hands landed on her shoulders, tugged her up and firmly steered her toward the boat. Before she knew it, she was walking up a steep gangplank onto the craft. The engine started, and in moments they were chugging along toward Zuko's ship.

Katara wiped her eyes and sniffled. So far, so good.

* * *

"That girl is a complete and utter fool," Witch grumbled from her vantage point in the trees. Bai-Bai laughed and clacked his beak together. "She'd better know what she's doing. Best laid plans and all. Well, then, I guess the rest is up to us, eh?" 

The Spirit crow cawed, flapped its wings and took off. They had a lot of work ahead of them. But not as much as the Waterbender had.

* * *

The miniboat was winched back onto the ship and Zuko directed his prisoner onto the main deck, keeping one step behind her. He hadn't said a single thing to her during the short trip, watching her unwaveringly at the prow of the little boat as she snivelled loudly. His eyes wandered up and down the slight curve of her spine beneath the ill-fitting, slightly warped leather armour, drinking in the way she just stood there, passive. Her long braid swayed against the field of green like a contented kitten's tail. Now and again, he could see her slim hands smoothing up and down her arms beneath those billowy sleeves; it looked as though someone else were embracing her. Soon enough, he thought darkly, they could be his hands… 

He suppressed another leering simper. He felt as though a ball of triumphant glee were lodged in his mouth and he chomped at it avidly. Who knew the girl's mere presence would be so potent? He'd enjoy having her aboard. She was a delight to simply look at…

But of course, she was also a terrific actress, and Zuko knew she was playing him for a fool.

It was the fire in her eyes that had tipped him off. She'd said she was desperate, and her dishevelled appearance certainly seemed to indicate her sorry state, but there was an edge to her plea, an energy that told him she hadn't quite given up hope of rescuing her companions. Those telling blue eyes were too bright, too full of light and hope to be those of someone who had really surrendered. He'd seen the defeated, the condemned…and their eyes were always sallow and dull. No, Katara was faking it, and she was putting on a spectacular show. He may have been young, but he wasn't stupid. Irately, he wondered if she really thought so little of him that she believed he'd fall for her ploy.

Regardless, he decided he'd play along until the right moment to ensnare her. He was intrigued by this masque she was putting on for him. Where did she think it would take her? What was she trying to accomplish? Now that she was on his ship, did she really think she'd be able to rescue her companions and get off the ship safely?

"How soon before we leave for the Fire Nation?" Zuko barked to his Uncle as soon as they arrived on the now-clean deck of the ship.

Iroh looked at his nephew, then at the girl standing demurely beside him, flanked by the lone guard who had accompanied the prince to shore. The old general's wide-eyed gaze ping-ponged back and forth and he blinked owlishly. He pursed his lips and cleared his throat to answer. "Er, we have a little problem, Prince Zuko. Some of the parts we needed for the boiler weren't available in the port town. A shipment is expected to arrive in two days' time, so we will have to wait until they come."

"What!" Zuko snarled.

"There's nothing we can do about the delay for now. I've talked to the engineer, as well. Even if we salvage the parts from the miniboats, it still won't make up for what we've lost, and we can't risk the long journey home with a half-finished boiler."

Zuko growled and paced the deck, his still-soggy boots squishing comically across the metal plating. Katara began to sob, but the prince could hear the snicker beneath her blubbering.

Iroh peeked over at her, aghast, as though he'd never seen a girl cry before. "Whatever's the matter, dear girl?"

"P-please, let me see m-my brother," she boo-hooed. "I just wanna see Sokka…"

Zuko chewed on his tongue. Now she was overplaying it, but his uncle didn't seem to notice. "Oh, you poor thing," Iroh put an arm around her. An odd look stole over the old Firebender's features and he backed away just a little, gingerly lifting his hands away. "Don't you worry. Nothing will happen to you. Will it, Prince Zuko?" He shot a reproving look at his nephew.

"I want us on our way as soon as possible," Zuko shouted, ignoring his captive's pretend pain. "No more delays, no more excuses."

Another sob burst from Katara's soft lips. The prince turned away in disgust.

"Zuko! Show some compassion for the girl," Iroh exclaimed, his voice full of reproach. He said more soothingly, "Let us settle her in her room and get her something to eat, hmm? After that, we'll see about letting her see her brother."

He pursed his lips. He didn't want Katara to spend any time with her brother. He was absolutely certain now that she was going to attempt a rescue, but he didn't want to let on that he knew. His decision to keep her quartered in her own cabin separate from her sibling was prudent, he assured himself, not just some fanciful whim. After all, who knew what kind of getaway she'd plot in tandem with her brother's wit? (Or half-wit, as it were.)

_Yes, that's it, play along, pretend she's no threat,_ Zuko told himself. _Let's see just how smart she thinks she is. Let's see how far she'll go to save her friends…_

A smirk of satisfaction lit his face. He turned and spoke. "You're right, Uncle. I'm not being very hospitable, am I?" It came out a little forced, a little sarcastically, but he moderated his tone, achieving a softer, more beseeching but stern timbre as he faced the cowering Waterbender. "Katara, you have my word of honour that you won't be harmed or abused while on my ship. However, I have to ask you to make the same promise to me; that you won't try to harm me or my crew, or make any attempt to escape. I have your brother in chains, and I will not hesitate to punish him for _your_ folly, understand?" He held his hand out and Katara looked at it. It seemed to take her a minute to realize he was asking for her water skin.

Her eyes narrowed, and Zuko saw that spark of defiance again._ Ah-ha._ She looked away and slowly nodded her acquiescence, unslinging the empty leather flask and giving it to the prince. Zuko passed it to a guard for safekeeping.

Time for his own acting. He reached out and captured her hand, squeezing it gently in his. He instantly became aware of the warmth of that tiny palm, the softness of her skin and the rougher work-hardened calluses on her chilled fingers. Oh, how he would have liked to kiss each of those digits! Her eyes flickered up to him in surprise and fear, cheeks reddening, and she trembled as he drew closer. "Come," he said in his softest voice possible. "I'll show you your cabin."

Hand in hand, he led his captive into the tower, feeling more than seeing his uncle's surprised and delighted gawp at his back.

A smirk wormed into his lips, but he knew that if he let it, it would widen into a genuine grin.


	15. Chapter 15

**More fanart, this time by the fabulous Irrel! I LOVE FANART! It makes me squee with joy!**

**http:// www. deviantart. com/ deviation/ 46713391  
**

* * *

**Chapter Fifteen**

* * *

_No, no, no, no, no!_ Katara despaired. _I was supposed to be brought to the brig! I was supposed to get Aang and Sokka out! Where am I going?_

The Waterbender anxiously reviewed the plan in her head. After explaining the situation with Karanna to her brother and the Avatar, Katara was supposed to help them escape the ship, then stay behind to break Zuko's heart. That was how she'd planned it, roughly.

But now, none of that would work. Her only option was to work around Witch's part in the scheme. But if what Zuko's uncle had said was true, they could be hoisting anchor and headed for open sea and the Fire Nation in two days. Then they'd never be able to get off the ship!

She breathed in deeply, calming herself. _Think of Aang first,_ she reminded herself firmly. The Avatar's mission was more important than her life, or even Sokka's. Still, if it were a choice between sending the little monk off on his own, or sending him with her brother as his protector, she would go with the latter.

She exhaled slowly. She was Katara of the Southern Water Tribe, given the mark of the Brave. She would endure this, and she could handle anything Fate—or Zuko—threw in her path.

_Okay then,_ Katara told herself reassuringly. _I can deal with this. I will figure something out…_

Since the hallways weren't quite wide enough to allow two people to walk abreast, Katara numbly let the prince pull her along behind him, his large hand with its long fingers folded securely around hers. The sizzling current dancing up her arm was completely unexpected, and she had a hard time focusing on their route as they ascended several flights of stairs and walked through numerous corridors in silence.

The thread of connection in her mind buzzed, resonating with Zuko's nearness, and the Water girl had to close off her mind completely to that sensation for fear of giving herself over to it. A small part of her had always been curious about what would happen if she threw open the flood gate. It had been a temptation since she'd first discovered the tether, to just let go and feel that rush of energy sweep her away, but she didn't dare to now, so close to the source of the power. With some effort, she pinched the flow shut; the humming stopped, and she breathed a sigh of relief. Living with that aching thrum in her soul would have been torture.

They kept walking, deeper and higher into the tower. The few soldiers she passed turned briefly to stare at the prince and his pretty young captive, but Zuko seemed unfazed as he sauntered past. They finally stopped at an unmarked door and he opened it.

"Your room," he announced blandly, and he let go of her hand. Katara stifled the urge to wipe it on her robe and stepped in. Zuko was right behind her.

It was a small, clean and sparsely furnished cabin, with a single cot and a set of drawers against one wall. A mirror above the small dresser and a Fire Nation standard hung above the cot. There was no window, and no other way out except through the door.

"You'll be under constant supervision. Guards will be at your door at all times, so if there's something you need, you can ask them," Zuko explained smoothly. "Until I have a reason to trust you, those will be the terms of your incarceration."

He hesitated a moment, seeming reluctant to leave that tight, confining space they occupied together. She watched him from beneath her lowered lashes, waiting for something further. It was quintessential that she appeared wholly non-threatening, she reminded herself, but she still had to win him over somehow. This moment alone was the perfect opportunity, and she had to figure out a way to utilize it. But as the seconds dripped past with increasing awkwardness, the Firebender finally turned on his heel to leave.

She glanced up as Zuko reached doorway, thinking fast. "Wait…" He stopped and half turned to her, his expression shuttered. Katara dithered. "Please, I'd like to see Sokka and Aang."

Zuko frowned. "No."

"Why not?" She cringed at her angry, demanding tone, and softened her voice to sound more pathetic. "I just want to know they're okay."

"They're fine. You have my word." The line of his mouth tightened.

She looked into his face imploringly, lips pouted. "Please, I just want to see my brother for a minute to know he's safe." She reached out and grabbed his sleeve. "If our roles were reversed, wouldn't you want to make sure your sibling was okay?"

A mixture of confusion and annoyance jagged across his face. He shook her off with a sound like a snarl. Okay, so maybe that was the wrong thing to say…

"Don't try me, peasant," he growled in warning. But just as quickly as his temper had risen, his features relaxed, schooling his face into a porcelain mask of stark composure. He cleared his throat. His voice softened again. "I'm…I didn't mean to snap at you. It's been a long day…" His lips twisted around quirkily, as if he were suppressing a laugh. Katara couldn't help but stare. He had an awfully nice mouth. Almost good enough to kiss…

A lilting giggle burst somewhere inside her head, and it seemed to confirm her thoughts. _Yes, a kiss! That was what she wanted—_

She shook her head almost violently. What was wrong with her?

"Um…right." Katara looked away, hoping he couldn't feel the heat coming off her face. He turned to leave again but she didn't want to let him go just yet—she wouldn't likely have a lot of opportunities to be alone with him.

"Zuko—" He stopped at the door, looking impatient. She managed a weak smile. "I just want to say…thank you." She added carefully, "For the cabin, I mean. You didn't have to put me in such…_nice_ quarters. But you did. I appreciate it."

The young Firebender inclined his chin, studying her down the length of his nose, as though judging the merit of her gratitude. She fidgeted, doing her best to look sincere and abashed. Seeming satisfied, he nodded once curtly before closing the door behind him. A pair of guards turned the corner and took up their posts by the prisoner's room just as the heavy metal portal shut.

She listened to his footsteps echo down the hallway. When silence permeated the little room once again, she proceeded to stomp around and grumble profanities about how stupid she was, how stupid _he_ was, and what the hell was wrong with her that she wanted to kiss him? Her pretended feebleness made her feel dirty, and the insincerity of her words of thanks were bitter in her mouth. She badly wanted a bath…in boiling water and lye— _Anything _to disinfect her skin after touching _him_.

Once she'd expended the nervous energy pinging through her system by pacing across the tiny space, she glanced at that solid door and around the four walls of her little cell of a room, groaning out loud as the reality of her imprisonment settled in. "What have I gotten myself into?" she cried softly.

Well, too late to back out now, she thought stupidly. She stripped the green Kyoshian outfit off and shook it out before draping it over the edge of her cot. It was too warm to be wearing the armour and silk uniform on the Fire Nation ship, and besides, it was absolutely filthy after the night she'd spent in Witch's hut.

Intent on exploring every inch of the cabin, she opened the drawers, but they were devoid of anything that might be able to help her break Sokka and Aang out. The cot was bolted to the deck. The walls and ceiling and floors sported no loose panels where she could hide anything. The Fire Nation standard was thin and flimsy and probably flammable. She made a noise in exasperation. Her spare accommodations were useless.

It was when she looked up at her reflection in the small mirror above the set of drawers that she nearly screamed.

_Something wrong, Katara? _Karanna stood just behind her in the reflection, a twinkle in her eye. But when the Water girl pivoted around, the young lady Avatar was nowhere to be seen. That singsong giggle pealed in the back of her brain again, and she realized with a start that it was Karanna laughing. She stared into the mirror.

"I've gone mad," she whined to herself.

_Hardly. _Karanna smirked.

"I don't understand," Katara staggered back a little. "How are you here?"

_I'm not really there. Well, I've always been there, but…_ Karanna's face scrunched up as she thought of a way to explain. _ Since your trip to the Spirit Realm, you've become more perceptive of psychic energies flowing through you, and mirrors help amplify that self-awareness. Think of your reflection as a spyglass to the other you. That is to say, me. _The lady Avatar smiled. _You've always had an open channel to me, you know. Just call and I'll be there. Anytime, anyplace._

"But what are you doing _here?_" she hissed at her reflection, keeping her voice low in case anyone outside heard her. Karanna looked at her quizzically.

_Well, it's not like I can go anywhere else,_ Karanna rolled her eyes,_ I'm tethered to you and Zuko, remember? By the way, great work so far. I can see he really likes you. You're already halfway there._

"Knock it off," she growled, pinching the bridge of her nose. But the Avataress was right. If she was going to break the spell—that is to say, break Zuko's heart—the Fire prince would really have to love her, or at least like her nominally before she could do it. Hence the nice-girl act. She just hoped Zuko would be receptive to her flirtations. "We have a problem. I'm not in the brig. I have to figure out a way to see Sokka."

_Female wiles, _Karanna replied easily. _Convince Zuko you pose no threat to him first. Then make him see the benefits of having a pretty young girl around him. He's a teenage boy, he'll get the idea._

"This is going to be impossible! I just found out I have two days to do this before the ship pulls out and sets sail for the Fire Nation. If we leave land before then, I am in big trouble." Katara massaged her temples and groaned again. "How am I going to get through this?"

_Don't force it. He already likes you for who you are,_ Karanna reassured her, unfazed by Katara's attempt to switch topics. _Just play up the things he likes…_

"I don't even know _what_ he likes!" She threw her hands up. "I don't think I _want_ to know!"

_He likes _you_. Act natural. _

"I should have gone with my original plan…" she lamented wryly.

_Which you still could, if you let me help you with your Waterbending,_ Karanna put in testily. Her annoyed look softened a little. _Open up to me, Katara…_

A knock interrupted their dialogue. When Katara turned to look in the mirror again, the Avataress was gone.

"Is everything all right in there?" the old man, Zuko's uncle, called from beyond the door. It opened on creaking hinges. "I thought I heard you talking to someone."

Katara immediately took on a sad, demure look. "Just to myself. I'm a little lonely in here."

He smiled benevolently and pushed his way past the door with a tray laden with tea and buns. "We'll be having dinner shortly, but I thought you could use a snack. I don't know when the last time you've eaten was. May I?"

The Water girl allowed him in. She hadn't eaten anything since that breakfast of Witch's questionable gruel, and she was starving. Plus, she'd welcome the opportunity to get to know the people around Zuko better. It would help her find out more about the teenage prince.

They sat on the edge of the cot, and he set the tray onto the ground once he'd poured the amber liquid. Katara ate her steamed bun without tasting it, gobbling it down and chasing it with the fragrant tea.

"Jasmine tea," Zuko's uncle indicated. "Good for calming the nerves."

Katara nodded, taking up another bun.

"It's Katara, isn't it?" he asked, and she nodded again. "I am General Iroh, but if you like, you can call me Uncle." He grinned.

"Thank you for the tea and buns," she said politely. Her face pinched with worry, creases forming at the corners of her mouth. The unpleasant churning that guilt elicited gnawed at her stomach. "I don't suppose my brother and Aang are receiving the same treatment?"

Iroh frowned. "Admittedly, no. But I assure you, your brother Sokka has been well-fed and is not being abused in any way. He has been a model prisoner, and hasn't given anyone any trouble or cause for punishment whatsoever."

That didn't sound like Sokka at all. Katara wondered what her brother was up to. "I'd like to visit with him, if that's at all possible."

He shrugged helplessly. "I'm sorry, but Prince Zuko has issued orders that you are not to go anywhere near the Avatar or your brother. In fact, he won't let anyone visit the brig, except for the ship's physician. Unfortunately, as the commander of this ship, it's his prerogative. He commands the crew and sets the rules—if he says no, there's little I can do to convince him otherwise—" he smiled meekly "—even if I am older and wiser."

She let out a long sigh bordering on frustration, but remembered to act timid. "Is Aang all right?"

"He's being kept drugged for the voyage," Iroh responded gravely. "Zuko couldn't risk letting him get loose, you understand. He's proved…_slippery_ in the past."

Katara turned this over in her mind. When the time came to break Aang out, she wouldn't be able to move him on her own unless she had help or an antidote for whatever the monk was on.

The old man watched her carefully with limpid, honey-coloured eyes, and she kept up the pretence of looking nervous and scared and unsure of herself, fidgeting and gazing around her in feigned stupefaction. It wasn't too hard.

"Katara, I have been wondering about something for a long time," Iroh said after a bracing sip of his drink. "You and my nephew…I know you have only encountered each other previously under the most…uh, constrained circumstances. But…" he cleared his throat, "you two have some kind of relationship going, don't you?"

Katara started.

Mischief crawled from one side of his mouth to the other. "I wouldn't ask such personal questions normally, but Zuko's a very complicated young man, and doesn't always…uh, act accordingly when it comes to other people, _especially_ not pretty young women." He chuckled.

How did he know? She couldn't exactly imagine Zuko opening up to his relative. The old general was either a mind reader, or extremely perceptive. Suddenly, she was very nervous, and fumbled for a response. "We had…an encounter, back at the Ho'Wan Island Carnival…. And again on the other island a few weeks back," she said haltingly.

Iroh waited to hear more, but she wouldn't give anything else up. "Does he…_mean_ anything to you?" he probed.

Katara chewed on her lower lip. What could she reveal to this old man, who was obviously close with the prince? Should she gush about him? Pretend she had a huge crush? But no, he'd see through that right away. Even so, she had a feeling he was the meddling-matchmaker type, judging by the impish glint in his eye. Perhaps he was the key to getting closer to Zuko...

She stalled, trying to choose an answer that was both cogent and ambiguous, so she avoided answering the general directly. "He's…" she searched for a word "_impressive,_ I suppose," she said quietly. "I just wish he'd see why Aang is so important and stop this crazy hunt."

"The hunt is over," Iroh intoned with a heavy heart.

"I know." She bit back a bitter laugh and launched into her rehearsed lines. "Look, I know Zuko has his own reasons for wanting Aang, and maybe they're good ones, but me…I'm just here because I couldn't stand it, being alone out there in that weird place. I've always had people around me, and Sokka and Aang are the only family I have left. Zuko was my last resort. I didn't want to be alone anymore. I had nothing left. Nothing. Please, General Iroh, it would mean a lot to me if I could see my brother." She silently applauded herself for the perfectly timed single fat tear that dripped off her cheek.

He looked upon her with great pity, offering her a handkerchief from his voluminous sleeve, which she took and dabbed her eyes with.

"I will speak with my nephew," he said. "For now, wipe your eyes. I know I'm old, but I hope I can be good company to you during your stay." He squeezed her shoulder reassuringly. "How about we head to the dining room? We can see if dinner can be sped along. I hope those buns didn't ruin your appetite." He beamed jovially.

Katara gaped at him. "But…I thought I was your prisoner. I can't eat at your table. I'm only a…a Water Tribe peasant. I can't keep company with _royalty_." She somehow managed the perfect balance of awe, respect, and meek fluster at the old man's suggestion.

"As long as you're on this ship, you can keep _me_ company. It's been a long time since there were any pretty faces aboard…myself excluded." Iroh chuckled again and stood with some effort. Katara dutifully threaded an arm through his and helped him to his feet, as a respectful granddaughter might. He smiled at her, patting her hand in approval, and started leading her out.

"By any chance," he asked as they made their way out, "do you know how to play Pai-sho?"


	16. Chapter 16

* * *

**Chapter Sixteen**

* * *

Zuko sat stiffly at the dining table, waiting for the other shoe to drop. Across from him, the Waterbender rested with demure poise, eyes downcast. His gimlet glare bore holes into her as she nibbled on her dinner, liberally sampling from the simple dishes spread before them. Yet another sign of her good but not quite perfect playact: prisoners didn't generally eat with as much gusto…or manners. 

"Is something wrong, Prince Zuko?" his uncle asked. "You've barely touched your dinner."

"It's nothing," he muttered.

_It's everything,_ he thought sourly. The girl was just…_sitting there_, eating, eyes rimmed with red from (supposed) crying, her movements small and unassuming. She was wearing her blue robes once more, and he had to admit he really liked her better in blue than in green. Occasionally, she would cast a furtive glance at him, but quickly averted her eyes when their gazes met.

Dinner conversation was limited to Iroh's perfunctory questions about the quality of the meal, which Katara dutifully answered in the positive, and generalized statements about the weather meant to encourage a wider discussion, which they didn't.

Zuko glowered. The only weather he was concerned with was the coming storm the girl would bring down upon them. He couldn't be wrong. She was going to try an escape attempt. Any minute now, she'd leap up, overturn the dining table and try to whisk her two companions away. That bison was somewhere out there, and she had a trick up her sleeve and she was manipulating all of them!

He glared down at his clenched fists, making an effort to rein in his temper. He had no reason to be angry, not yet. For now, it should be enough that she was here, and that he could go along with whatever game she was playing. But it was maddening. Maddening because, no matter what he thought she was here to do, what her purpose aboard was, he still wanted to _touch_ her, to be with her. And that he was spending more time watching this simple Water Tribe peasant for signs of betrayal than eating Cook's delicious dinner troubled Zuko greatly.

Well, she couldn't get under his skin. She _wouldn't_. She might be lovely and beautiful and look perfectly perfect just _sitting there,_ but she was _not_ smarter than he was!

Shortly, dessert was brought. The girl and his uncle sat back, sighing in satisfaction as they nibbled on almond cookies, which Cook only made on special occasions, with more tea—a blend known as _mah-low-meet. _"The good stuff," Iroh had said, insisting on sharing from his personal collection of specialty brews since they had a guest.

Zuko remained ramrod straight on his seat cushion. He didn't want a cookie, and he certainly didn't want any tea.

"Well, my dear, if you're finished your dinner, perhaps you'd like to go for a walk on deck before bedtime?" Iroh asked Katara pleasantly. The girl smiled up at him and nodded.

Gods, that good-girl act was getting old. Zuko ground his teeth.

"Prince Zuko," Iroh gestured to his nephew grandly. "The young lady could use an escort."

"_Me?"_ he blasted with unnecessary vehemence. "You take her!"

A hurt expression marred Katara's delicate features, and she made a point of making sure he saw it before looking away. Iroh raised an eyebrow at his nephew, his mouth turning down at the corners in disappointment. "I'm going to turn in early," he declared, yawning hugely and stretching like a platypus-bear coming out of hibernation. "Besides, it's a lovely night out and you two could use some time to talk, _don't you think?_" Iroh eyed him steadily.

Zuko stemmed his irritation. He didn't want to let on that he'd picked up on her little game; and he wasn't acting princely in any case. If he could just figure out a way to lower her defences, make her open up to him, to trust him, she might accidentally reveal her plan…

_And maybe you'd get to kiss her again. And maybe she'll stay with you if she likes you enough…_

_Don't be an idiot,_ he told himself sharply. He had to proceed with extreme caution. Handling her would be like handling a sleeping snapper-snake—it looked perfectly harmless until it bit you in the butt. This was going to take some real finesse—something Zuko had yet to learn, as he would soon discover.

He stood and strained to put on a tender smile that pinched the taut corners of his mouth and eyes.

"Won't you join me, _my lady?_" And though it was a request, it still sounded like a command. He held his hand out and stilled the tremble in his arm, cringing a little at his own gracelessness.

The look on Katara's face was a study in confusion. Good, he thought brusquely. It was time she was caught off balance. Of course, his sudden change of moods probably wasn't winning him any points in the believability department. Uncle Iroh was certainly giving him weird looks.

Slowly and with great uncertainty, the Waterbender put her tiny hand in his and he helped her to her feet. Something tingled up and down his arm at her touch, filling him with warmth. They stood there a second, staring at each other as shades of adoration and abhorrence alternately tinted their carefully composed expressions, their hands locked as though in contest, all while Iroh beamed at them. Zuko was beginning to wonder if his uncle was entirely oblivious to the perplexed and slightly appalled look beneath the forced simper on Katara's face.

"Go on now, you two, enjoy the evening. You don't have a curfew, after all!" Iroh tittered as he ushered the two teens out of the dining room.

Zuko looked down at his ward briefly, swallowed, and gestured. "Follow me."

They walked down the hallway, hands tenuously clasped, with Katara a pace behind her guide in those long, narrow corridors. The metronome of his hollow footfalls measured the bars of his rapidly beating heart, and for the strangest moment, Zuko felt as thought he were walking that last long mile to the executioner's block.

The nervous energy ricocheting through him made him hyperaware of every sensation. He could feel her squeezing him—just the barest of spasms, really—and her thumb was tracing little circles on his skin. She was testing him, teasing him, and by gods, it was slowly sapping his sanity away. The need to do _something_—hold her closer, shove her away, kiss her, punch her, SOMETHING—warred with his level-headedness.

_Just keep playing along, _he repeated to himself. _Play along and all her secrets will become clear to you…_

Thankfully, they emerged from the tower and onto the open deck before the heat blooming on his pale cheeks became too noticeable. In the west, the last quarter of the sun was slipping below the horizon, the pale orange sky bleeding into indigo and black. The barest sliver of moon could be discerned among the smattering of stars. All around them, the black water remained blanketed by mist, as though the ship were floating on a pool of smoke.

As they stepped into the cool night air, Zuko let go of Katara's hand, wincing that his palms were actually _sweaty_. He was a Firebender: his palms were _never_ sweaty! He surreptitiously wiped them on his pants before folding his hands behind him.

"Nice night," Katara said lamely, and took a few steps ahead of Zuko.

"Don't try to escape," the prince said sharply. "There's nowhere for you to run."

Katara whirled around, scowling. Zuko smirked at her obvious misstep out of character, and watched with amusement as she swallowed and nearly choked on whatever nasty retort had been dancing on the tip of her tongue. A pained look crossed her face as she averted her sparking eyes. "I know." Her voice dropped to a husky coo. "And I won't. I don't want to be alone…out there." Her gaze drifted to the shadowed shore.

"We're all alone…" Zuko heard himself say, and he snapped his mouth shut. Why had he said that? It wasn't like him to be maudlin…Okay, so it was sometimes, but not now, not when victory was his and his honour was about to be restored.

Why _had_ he said that?

Katara studied him a moment, a strange look on her face, then turned away. Belatedly, Zuko realized his words might have sounded as though he was suggesting the two of them were not being monitored. That they were alone together and anything they did would not be witnessed by anyone aboard his ship….

He coughed, scattering the prurient images crowding his brain. As she started a slow, circuitous path around the perimeter of the ship, the young Firebender followed a step behind her, watching her every move.

They walked like this for a while, treading wordlessly, gingerly, on shattered dreams and razor-sharp memories, unspoken questions hanging between them like daggers strung on threads. The mountain chill slid over Zuko's skin, the ghostly mist clinging stubbornly, and he shuddered, raising his body temperature a few degrees. The vapour around him dissipated. Katara looked like she wanted to crawl back into that ugly green dress of hers and stay cocooned forever within its folds. She rubbed her forearms, hugging herself and shivering slightly.

An insanely delightful thought suddenly crossed Zuko's mind. He pictured himself sliding his arms around her waist and enveloping her in his body heat, holding her closely and breathing in her scent, nuzzling the spot just behind her ear, murmuring into her hair about how beautiful she was and wouldn't she like to see the Fire Nation with him… And how, exactly, was she planning on rescuing her brother and the Avatar from his ship…?

But was this an opportunity or a trap? Was her shivering just another part of her act? Maybe she wanted him to go to her, to hold her and become ensnared by her guile…

But before he could make a move, she was waving her arms around, weaving them about her in an odd fashion. Zuko was about to stop her, but became mesmerized by her little dance, slowly realizing what she was doing. She was wicking moisture away from her skin, bending the fog around her into a fist-sized ball of water hovering in her hand. She flicked it over the side of the ship with a splash.

"Nicely done," he remarked, then just had to add, "though I think I'm just a little more efficient at warming up than you are."

Katara narrowed her eyes at him, lips puckered. "We all find our own ways of doing things." Her voice was strident, infused with bile. He could see her hands fisted behind her back, and her stance had _challenge _written all over it. That alone triggered something hot and heady within him and he wanted to meet it head-on.

But even as he prepared himself for conflict, his eyes roving over her appreciatively in the meanwhile, she shrank down, transforming herself back into a docile little doe. Zuko frowned, almost in disappointment. Meekness didn't suit her. She just didn't fit into the mould she was trying to stuff herself into. The proud jut of her diminutive chest, the set of her jaw, and those blazing cobalt eyes could not be diminished, could not be tamped down, no matter how hard she tried.

And boy, was she ever trying. Zuko watched, suppressing a knowing smirk, as she melodramatically looked out at the open sea from the side of the ship and sighed, leaning against the rail.

The next words out of her mouth caught him off guard.

"Tell me about the Fire Nation, Zuko," she asked with a dreamy look on her face as she propped her chin up with one hand. She glanced over her shoulder, smiling weakly.

He balked. "Why?"

A pregnant pause ensued before she answered. "I miss my home. It'd be nice to hear about someone else's for a while. That's where you're—_we're _going, right?" She turned sorrowful blue eyes upon him and it almost—_almost_—made his icy core thaw.

_She's just trying to make me feel guilty,_ he told himself sharply, and a surge of resentment flooded him. _If she misses her home after a few short months, she should try living on a ship for two years, hunting for something she wasn't sure existed…_

He answered her briskly. "There's not much to tell. The Fire Nation is a bunch of islands. Nice weather, volcanoes and lots of hot springs..." He instantly pictured Katara lounging in one of those sulphurous pools, hair unbound, smiling seductively. He shook his head. "Uh…and it's tropical, mostly. Some mountains with a little snow at their peaks…nice view from the palace…"

He honestly couldn't say much more, or at least, didn't want to. Of course he missed his home, but talking about it only twisted the knife. And while he knew it very well, from the grand throne room to the myriad galleries and ballrooms, the royal palace had been the setting for so many bad memories, and so few good ones, especially after his mother had left him.

"Sounds nice," Katara said softly, interrupting his thoughts. "So…you're taking us all there now?"

Zuko leaned against the railing a few feet from her. Okay, he'd play along. "I haven't decided that yet."

"If you think it's that nice," Katara chimed in a little too eagerly, "maybe…you could take _me_ to see all those nice things?" She turned huge, hope-filled eyes upon him. Rosy spots burned high on her cheeks.

The prince stared. In his mind, he was wrestling between calling her bluff right then and there, and just going along with her act. It wasn't right to take advantage of her, he knew. And he wouldn't. He was a prince, after all. But she was leaving herself completely open, trying to seduce him into a false sense of security. He told himself she wouldn't win this game she played. She just wouldn't. She was making it too easy for him to beat her.

Too easy. Yeah, that's exactly what was wrong with this whole situation, and that was what was making him so uncomfortable—so _angry—_with her. It was a game, a challenge where the outcome was inevitable. He was going to win this, didn't she see that? Why did she keep fighting her fate—fighting _him?_ Why did she insist on this deception?

"I've always wanted to see the Fire Nation," she went on, heaving another sigh. "My people…we've only ever had ice and snow and the sea. Don't get me wrong, I love my home, my family…but… Hot springs, hmm?" She caught her lower lip between her teeth in a way that made Zuko want to both slap her for her impertinence and kiss her because she was just so delectable looking. "I think…I think I would really enjoy a nice hot soak." She batted her eyelashes coyly while toying with the end of her braid.

Heat flooded through him as he relived in a flash that moment when he'd awakened in that waterfall pool back at the cursed island, lips and tongue tangling with hers. The surge of desire rocking through him almost made him moan out loud. Zuko felt warm and strange and not entirely sure what he was doing with this girl anymore. It was as though in the closeness of night, her powers of suggestion made every one of her whims into an inexorable command. If she asked him to jump into the water just then, he might actually have gotten as far as removing his boots.

Zuko nearly slapped himself. _I can do this, _he gritted._ I can hang on and out-seduce this wench…_ And he willed his cold feet to shuffle an inch closer.

"Are you serious? Do you really want to see the Fire Nation?" He forced himself to speak softly, huskily, as he had oh so long ago, when she'd been tied to a tree and he'd been offering her back her mother's necklace—back when he'd been the one in complete control of the situation. "Because I can take you there, Katara…take you places you've _never_ seen…"

He mentally groaned at his own stupid line (Uncle must have taught him that one) but managed to slide his hand toward hers on the railing and catch it, feeling the way it trembled in his palm like a small fluttering creature. He clasped it to the center of his chest, drawing her closer.

And then he realized that booming noise overwhelming his senses was the sound of his heart hammering between his ears. The scant foot of air between them seemed to vibrate with tension. This was almost too much for Zuko to bear. Looking into those bright, expectant eyes, he realized with perfect horror that he could, in fact, take this girl right here, and she would not resist him, would let him have her in spite of herself, just so she could play out her game.

Her fingers curled into his chest. He swallowed a dry lump in his throat. He'd gotten in over his head, and now he was about to watch the situation spiral out of his control. The look of giddy terror and dreamlike bewilderment warping Katara's features told him just how far she'd let him go and that regardless of what she'd lose to him, she would win.

Upping the ante, Katara took a fortifying breath, stilled her trembling and stepped forward, levelling her azure gaze to his gold one. Just as he thought she was going to whisper something thick with innuendo, something so disgustingly saccharine he'd swallow it and call it honey, her lips parted, and he could hear her quickening breath. "Z-Zuko…" she stuttered hoarsely. "What…what is this?"

But the prince had no witty comeback, no scathing retort; no words at all for the Waterbender because now her question was honest, open, and definitely _not_ part of the precarious game they were playing. His pulse beat a tattoo throughout his core. He didn't know what _this_ was, either, but he didn't _not_ like it.

A chorus in the Firebender's brain was chanting to _kiss her, kiss her, kiss her,_ and he didn't want to ignore it even though he knew he had to. His world had narrowed down to this moment, just the two of them and the space between, and he felt light-headed and giddy and warm and sick and angry all at once. Mired in his own emotions, Zuko began to panic, to act and speak without thinking, to simply react to the situation.

"Ever since that island…maybe even before," Zuko heard himself say, "There's been something…different…about you…"

_What are you doing? What the hell are you saying?_

Katara urged him on with her bright blue eyes.

"I don't know how to deal with these…_feelings_…that I've been having…" he admitted, "…because I don't know if they're real…" His halting confession, guttered out with rusty sincerity, made him squirm inwardly.

His brain cried out, _Stop! She's getting closer to you! Run away! Run away!_

And then she said, "Let me help you decide."

Katara's expression shuttered as she leaned in exactly one inch, her fingers gripping the front of his robe, her lips pursed to a calculated diameter for maximum kissing surface.

It would have been so easy to meet her the rest of the way. All he had to do was lean in 30 degrees, tilt his face to two o'clock and part his lips….

But her intense trembling literally shook him out of the moment. He backed away abruptly, releasing her hand and gulping down air to clear the cloying fog from his head. Saved by her anxiety! He nearly cried out in relief and aggravation as he turned away, clenching his fists in front of him but refraining from stuffing one into his stupid traitorous mouth.

_Idiot! Why didn't you kiss her?_

Recovering himself, Zuko half turned without looking at the Waterbender, mortified at himself for being such a noble coward. "You're cold. I should take you back inside." Zuko tore himself away, his face twisting with disgust.

_Dammit!_ His brain warred with his libido, pitting reason against the need to _feel_ her again.

_You could have had some of that!_

_She's trying to get under your skin!_

_Well, she's doing pretty well, don't you think?_

_Don't let your guard down! If she gets even one little kiss, you'll be putty in her hands. Then she'll try to get you to let go of her brother and the Avatar. Just watch!_

"Come on." He jerked his chin toward the door and she followed him silently through the ship's tower and up to her room. His cheeks burned the entire way back to her cabin. To himself, he reasoned that he'd been smart, that this was all part of the game, and dammit, he was the one in control and she really should be in the brig but there was no way in hell he was going to let her team up with Sokka the wonder boy!

"Is something wrong?" Katara asked timidly, and he nearly lashed out at her for asking such a stupid question, and in such a meagre voice, too. He stopped, letting out a long hissing sigh like steam from a pressure cooker.

"No," he muttered, glancing briefly at her over his shoulder. That brief glimpse of those wide, bewildered, disappointed blue eyes and her slight pout sent a pang of regret and longing through him. But he stalked on without another word and didn't reach out for her hand again—that would have been sheer torture.

In due course they arrived at her room. The guards were posted around the corner and down the hall out of sight, performing regular patrol duties until they were called for to watch the Waterbender. The two teens lingered awkwardly there a moment longer, toe to toe. Katara's chin was tucked in, her eyes downcast, cheeks stained crimson from blushing so furiously.

"Thank you for…a lovely evening." Her voice was jittery, the sweetness she forced into it unyielding and hard like rock candy, but when she raised her face, that clear blue-glass gaze pierced him through his swollen heart, and her brief smile filled him with light.

Zuko's mouth felt like it was full of marbles. "It was my pleasure," he mumbled.

_CRAP! DAMMIT! HELL!_ He screamed at himself.

_Kiss her, kiss her, kiss her,_ the chorus in his brain chanted.

_She's using you, _Reason warned. _Watch this, she's going to try and make you—_

Katara took a resolute step forward, standing on her tiptoes, and pecked him on the corner of his mouth before ducking into the cabin and slamming the heavy door shut.

Zuko stood there, staring at the spot she'd just vacated, feeling the ghostly warmth of her kiss trickle through him, his heart tap-dancing against his rib cage.

He pitched forward a little and braced his hands against the wall, steadying himself. After a few seconds, the guards marched around the corner and planted themselves in front of the prisoner's door. If they noticed anything different about their prince, they didn't show it.

He straightened, and croaked, "Make sure she gets whatever…" he gestured emptily "…_girly things_ she needs. Within reason," he added stiffly to the soldiers. "On my authority."

The guards nodded acquiescence, though what the prince meant by "girly things" they could not decipher.

And then Zuko clomped loudly away, though his feet felt like they never touched the floor and his head was floating a foot off his shoulders.


	17. Chapter 17

* * *

**Chapter Seventeen**

* * *

Katara fell back against the cold steel door, her pulse galloping. She stared around, wild eyed, then grabbed the pillow off the cot and stuffed her face into it, letting out a long, muffled scream. 

She kissed him! She kissed him right on the cheek, right there, a breath away from those damned lips! So close! She had been _this_ close to kissing that…that _prince_ on his stupid royal lips! She tried to calm herself, tried to smother the panic, to forget that what had happened had just happened…but her lips had been seared by the heat of his skin, that soft patch of flesh that she'd just…

_Get a grip!_ She shook herself fiercely then began pacing like an angry tigress, hurling the pillow back down on the cot and wringing her itching hands. She caught herself lightly brushing her burning lips with her fingertips. Disgusted, she roughly swiped the cuff of her sleeve over her mouth to get the feeling of _him_ off.

It was all part of the plan of course, she reminded herself hurriedly. He had wanted her to kiss him, and she knew he had wanted to, and she knew _she_ had to, but she hadn't been prepared for the deluge of feelings whirling around her skull. She didn't want to kiss him, but she _had_ to kiss him, but she kind of did _want_ to kiss him, but she _couldn't_ want to kiss him because…well, it was Zuko, and by default she _shouldn't_ want to kiss him and…ARRRGHHH!

She prowled around the tiny room anxiously, trying to ward off the chill that was raising goose bumps all over her body while inside, a fever seemed to boil her blood. Her teeth ached from clenching, and her whole frame was quivering, every one of her nerves tingling with sensation.

"I can't do this!" she squealed suddenly, giddiness and despair colliding in her chest. Seeking guidance, assurance, ANYTHING to get her mind off what had happened, she slammed her palms down on the dresser and stared into the mirror. In her reflection, Karanna regarded her serenely.

_Problems? I think you're doing quite well. _The Avataress beamed.

"I don't think I can keep this up! He's going to drive me nuts! I'm going to wrap my hands around his neck…"

…_And kiss him._ Karanna grinned._ Don't keep trying to fool yourself, dear. You have feelings for that boy. It'd be easier if you just let go and do what your heart wants. _

Katara let out a strangled noise, not unlike one Sokka would make. "What I _want_ is to get Aang and Sokka and get to the North Pole and away from _him!_"

_I don't see why you're so upset... _The woman in the mirror said, sounding bored. Then she smiled slowly. …_Unless, of course, you're upset because Zuko _didn't_ kiss you._ The Avataress tittered.

Katara scowled fiercely. "This isn't going to work." She speared her fingers through her bangs. "He's on to me, I just know it! There's no way he'd act so…so _nice_ and so profoundly _stupid_ at the same time!"

(Ugh, did she just say Zuko was _nice?)_

_He's a boy. Boys are like that._ Karanna sighed jadedly. _Don't give up. You'll find a way to break his heart. Just trust in your own._

The Waterbender rubbed her temples. "This is so stupid. Why couldn't I have just sunk the ship like in my original plan?" she mumbled.

_I can still help you there, if you let me, _the Avatar returned soberly.

Katara grimaced. Though getting rid of that idiot Fire Prince was getting more and more tempting by the minute, she would not let Karanna take possession of her again. Not after what she did with her body the first time. "No, thanks."

"Is everything all right in there, miss?" The guard outside was rapping on the door, his voice muffled through the solid metal portal. "Do you need help?"

Katara glanced back in the mirror.

_Bring him to his knees. Make him your slave. I know you can. _Karanna smiled ferally and faded away, her wicked grin burning a little crescent of straight white teeth into her mind.

Katara carefully put on her most despondent face and opened the door. "I'm all right," she said. "I was just a little…weepy." She sniffed and pretended to wipe a tear away.

The skull-like faceplate regarded her indifferently. "Prince Zuko has authorized us to bring you whatever you may need to make your stay more…um, comfortable," the guard informed her, sounding a little uncomfortable himself. Perhaps he was simply dreading the demands of a captive teenage girl.

Katara blinked up at him. Had Zuko really been that considerate of her needs, or was there some ulterior motive to this? What was that stupid prince playing at, anyway? If he wanted to win her over in any way, shape or form, _he'd _be the one bringing her flowers and candies and writing her poetry and…

_What am I even thinking?_ Zuko wasn't trying to win her over…he didn't need to do that. She was his prisoner, after all! She didn't need to be wooed. For all intents and purposes, she was his for the taking, and that was…_fine_ with her, she gritted, as long as she could get Aang and Sokka off this ship safely….

Yes, that was it. The only reason to expect Zuko to court her was because…well, he was royalty, wasn't he? Didn't he get lessons or something in courting ladies?

When the guard cleared his throat and rocked on his heels a little, she realized with a start that she was just standing there, gawping at him, while he patiently waited for her to make a request.

The Water girl worried her lip between her teeth, trying to think of something to test just how comfortable Katara would be allowed to get. "Well…I could use a bath," she said, putting on a meek, embarrassed face.

The soldiers exchanged glances. Obviously, they knew she was a Waterbender, and shouldn't be given ammunition. But the guard considered her request seriously, probably realizing she was surrounded on all sides by her element and could have done some serious damage by now if that had been her plan and if she were capable of it.

"I'll see what I can do." He marched away, leaving his counterpart to keep watch over the prisoner. Katara closed the door once more.

_Might as well make use of the amenities while I have them,_ she grimaced, sniffing her unwashed robes and gagging on the smell of her unwashed clothes.

That she wanted to look and smell decent for Prince Zuko placed a distant second in her mind. After all, it was all part of the plan, or so she told herself.

* * *

Sokka ached all over. It'd been a while since he'd done any real chores, and today's deck-cleaning and boiler polishing had been killer on his neck and back. Sorting through all those little brass and steel pieces had been painful, and he'd learned almost nothing from the exercise. Of course, they hadn't actually put the thing back together yet. If he was lucky, the engineer's assistant would request his help again and he might actually be able to perform some kind of sabotage. 

"Ho, there," Guard One came in with a metal basin of water and a sea sponge and set it on the floor. "You're being authorized a bath."

Sokka, stinking of bird poo, male sweat and grease, sighed gratefully for this small mercy, until he put the sponge into the water. He squealed, "This water's freezing!"

One shrugged. "Them's the breaks."

"C'mon, you're a Firebender. Couldn't you…y'know…?" He made fiery noises and mimed what he wanted.

Guard One heaved a dramatic sigh. He looked over at Guard Three, who Sokka had decided to dub Twitchy for the way he absolutely refused to talk with the prisoner, but Twitchy did not intervene, keeping his eyes straight ahead like a good military drone. One stooped and cupped his hands around the basin, and in seconds, steam rose from the large metal bowl.

"Thanks." Sokka beamed, and began sponging himself off starting with his sweating face. One waved airily as he closed the door to his cell and locked it.

"So, like, I still don't know any of your names," Sokka said, more to fill the awkward silence as he slipped out of his top and worked the sponge over him, scrubbing at his arms and chest, his back turned to the guards. "Except for Twitchy over there."

Twitchy muttered something as One sniggered at the nickname.

One paused a moment, weighing the consequences of telling this peasant boy his name. They'd already broken a dozen of Zuko's how-to-handle-prisoners rules—why not compound the crime? He shrugged. "I'm Ching."

"Sokka, Southern Water Tribe," he saluted him a little goofily, "prisoner of war at your service."

One chuckled.

And just like that, a gap was bridged. Sokka mentally chalked himself another point.

"So…" he asked casually as he continued his ablutions, "how long have you been in the army?"

* * *

It was well past midnight when Zuko decided it was no use trying to sleep. He'd anxiously paced his room a while, tried meditating, and even gone for cold bath, hoping the brisk dip would temper the fever burning through him. All to no avail. He'd heard that having animal companions helped some people relax, but petting Momo hadn't calmed him down, though the lemur, having been locked up in his room all day, seemed to have enjoyed the attention. 

He changed into his training clothes and headed out to the deck to burn off some energy. Running through all the forms he knew, the prince shot explosive fireballs out across the black water, working every muscle into exhaustion. Every kick and punch he threw punctuated the emotions jangling through him. Sweat dripped off his brow, soaking his sleeveless top. Every breath he took seared his lungs the same way Katara's lips had seared that damn spot on his face. If only he could move that bloom of sensation an inch to the left, then maybe he wouldn't feel so…so…

_Dammit! She's gotten under my skin! _He growled at himself and launched into another devastating attack on his invisible opponent. _She's using me and manipulating me and she's going to spring her brother and the Avatar and I will hate myself doubly if I allow her to do it!_

His self-admonishments were interrupted. "I seem to recall the earliest and most important piece of advice I ever gave you was that a man needs his rest." Uncle Iroh stood to one side, wearing a billowing over robe over his pajamas. He yawned hugely. "So what's keeping you up, Prince Zuko?"

"Go back to bed, Uncle. It's nothing."

"Well, this 'nothing' better be one heck of a nothing, because the night watch soldiers were getting nervous that maybe something was…amiss?" Iroh tossed a towel at the young Firebender and sat down heavily on a crate. He patted the box beside him. "I'm not going back to sleep until you tell me what the problem is," he warned.

Zuko towelled off, but wouldn't look at his elderly relative. How could Uncle possibly understand what it felt like to be used by someone? To know that someone he…_cared_ about was trying to influence him, manipulate him, and that he could do nothing about it? That regardless of their machinations, he _still_ cared about them, still burned with that damned _feeling_ he couldn't name—as though no matter what they did, they could do him no wrong, even though every fibre of his being _knew_ it was wrong?

(Ugh, did he really just admit that he _cared_ for that Water wench? He didn't…well, he did…but that was hardly beside the point!)

Iroh couldn't possibly understand what the young man was going through—the self-imposed restraint, and the utter impotence that went with it—to avail himself…no, he quickly corrected, to _immunize_ himself against a mere Water Tribe peasant girl.

As the prince continued his thick silence, Iroh made a _hmm_ing noise. "I'm going to take a stab in the dark here and guess it's about our young lady guest."

"Prisoner," Zuko corrected him brusquely. It helped remind him of who was in control, too. "And if you must know, yes, I have a problem with her."

Iroh waited. "Well? What is it?"

He opened his mouth to explain, but so many words fought to spill out of him that he choked. After a brief pause, he settled for the most direct answer. "She's going to try to free the Avatar and her brother," he said on a tired exhalation and turned to face his uncle. "Isn't it obvious? She's only here because she's trying to lull us into a false sense of security and snatch them out from right under our noses."

Iroh remained stoic. "If that's what you're so worried about, then why not simply put her in the brig? Put some chains on her? Knock her out and drug her for the voyage?"

_Slit her throat and dump her over the side, _read the next logical point in the series, and the idea horrified Zuko. He whirled. "I don't want her to be in contact with her brother," he replied sharply. "They'll just put their heads together and come up with an escape plan. Keeping them apart is paramount. And I won't set either of them free, not now." He crossed his arms over his chest, flexing his jaw mulishly.

As for why he didn't simply lock her up in her room and keep her there? Well…he refused to answer that question. He still had to find out what her escape plan was, didn't he? And how was he going to do that except by wheedling it out of her?

"Well, it sounds like you have _that_ all figured out." Iroh grinned, his tone a hair shy of facetious. "So, what's _really_ troubling you about Katara?" His uncle eyed him critically.

Zuko clenched his fist as his gut tightened, feeling the mixture of heaviness and sickness and pure delight curling inside of him at the very mention of her name. That spot to the right of his lips seemed to sizzle and he had to look away to hide the warmth spreading to the tips of his ears. It was ridiculous to think his fixation on the Waterbender was anything more than infatuation. Teen lust. Hormones. Whatever Uncle called it. All he knew for certain was that this couldn't be what love felt like. Love wasn't supposed to aggravate his stomach so much.

He made a face. He'd thought he loved her once, but he'd never let himself be finagled into that illusory sentiment again. This wasn't love. There was no room for love if he didn't have his honour. And he didn't. Not just yet.

Something inside him hardened, clenched, and towed him under the churning depths of his emotions. It felt like a leaden weight had been bound to his heart and was sinking fast, plummeting to the safety of the abyss where it would see no light.

He sighed heavily. "I think I'm just tired." The prince slung his towel over his shoulder and refused to meet his uncle's eye as he walked back to his room. Quietly, he said, "Thank you for talking with me. I'm going to bed now."

"You're always welcome," Iroh replied gently as Zuko went in ahead of him.

Watching his nephew walk away, the old man shuffled off to his own room, the well-oiled gears in his mind whirring with speculation and intrigue.

* * *

Bori was ushering the last of the drunks out of his tavern, being none too careful when scudding the inebriated wastrels out into the streets. He pushed the last stumbling regular out and shut and bolted the door, sighing. Earth Kingdom, Fire Nation—it didn't matter who was in charge of this two-bit town, they all drank too much, which would suit his business fine if the soldiers would just pay their burgeoning tabs. Why, the debts were growing so quickly, he'd had to water the beer and mead to nearly equal parts just to turn a modest profit these days. 

He turned wearily to face the cleanup ahead and nearly screamed.

"Hello Bori. Business good?" Grey dreadlocks, stinking rags, and jagged, rotting teeth formed the nightmare visage that was one of his most frequent customers.

Regaining his composure, he snarled, "It's closing time, Witch. Come back tomorrow."

The huge crow the old malkin travelled with cawed from the rafters and he jumped back, startled and unnerved.

"I just came by to pick up some suet for my babies. You know as well as any my money's good." She produced three shiny gold pieces from the folds of her filthy robes. Bori licked his lips and tugged his beard.

"Fine." He grunted. "I'll give you ten pounds and a bag of seed."

"Always such a fair businessman," Witch cackled, though the money she gave him could have bought anyone else five times as much, or more. The tavern owner scuttled into the kitchen pantry and returned with a bundle, eager to see the woman out. "That's why I like you, Bori," she crooned. "You're an honest and enterprising individual." The hag licked her lips, her features wrinkling as though she could taste the bile in her own words.

"Just take your things and go." He glowered in disgust.

Witch ignored him blithely. "And as you are such a _fair_ and _honest_ man," she drawled, "I feel the need to give you a tip, too." Her eyes glinted. "Do you like gold, Bori? I don't have much need of it myself, you know, except to buy pretties for my brothers and sisters, and a few basics…"

Despite his impatience with the creepy old woman, the tavern owner's attention was piqued. "Get on with it."

The corner of her mouth hitched up gruesomely in a leer. "There's a certain young man in a cove a few hours' hike from here," she said with a mocking lilt. "The exiled prince of the Fire Nation, Ozai's boy."

Bori frowned in disappointment. "I already know that. He came to port a few days ago looking for bounty hunters. Wanted his old girlfriend caught or something." He snorted derisively. "So what's so big about that?"

Witch grinned, her rotting teeth showing horrifically between cracked lips. "Well, I seem to recall a few wanted posters for a particular someone that this boy is holding captive on his currently _disabled_ ship. A little _Airbending_ someone."

"He has the Avatar?" Bori blinked, processing what she was saying. News of the Avatar's bounty had come to the remote port town slowly, mostly through hearsay from transients. The riffraff who did believe in the reward hadn't bothered to pursue it actively, since no one believed the monk would ever pass the hole-in-the-ground town. That, plus the Fire Nation garrison occupying the town would immediately seize claim of the captive Avatar, and then no one would see a red cent of the bounty prize. Without a ship to get the Avatar safely to the Fire Nation and past the Navy's blockade, much less the right men and resources to actually collect the last Airbender, it would be a worthless—if not deadly—venture.

But if what Witch was saying was correct, that the Airbender had been captured and was somehow subdued aboard the exiled prince's vessel, then things could go very differently… His mind whirled with the possibilities. He could hear sacks of gold coins clinking in his imagination. "How do you know this for certain—that he has the Avatar, I mean?" he asked warily.

"A little birdie told me." Witch hooted wildly at her own joke, and Bai-Bai joined her in her manic laughter. "Really, Bori, you have to ask?" Her cockeyed glance travelled upwards to the bird in the rafters, who stared down archly at him. The tavern keeper shuddered—the bird's glare seemed to slide straight through him.

Bori leaned his hip against the edge of a table, crossed his arms over his chest in an effort to look nonchalant. "So, what do you expect me to do about this?" he asked, knowing full well what she was going to say.

She played along, her hideous attempt at a coy smile making him squirm uncomfortably. "You know that's all _my_ land there, and I don't like trespassers." She absently flicked at her ragged clothing and inspected her dirty, broken fingernails. "But if someone were to, say, _encourage_ the prince and his crew to move away, I would overlook a few people traipsing through the forest…as long as they stay away from the south-eastern ridge," she added crisply, not wanting anyone near the rookery. "If they managed to, oh, I don't know…pay their respects to the prince, maybe…I'd say the _rewards_ would be _stunning_."

Bori regarded the crazy old hag a moment. "If you're lying, woman…"

"Why would I lie?" she snapped, spittle flying. "I'm just offering an honest businessman a means of making some honest business, is all." She hefted the sack over her shoulder. "Consider it a late solstice gift," she threw over her shoulder.

The huge crow flapped its enormous wings, sending down a shower of moulting black dander and down. Bori waved the cloud away from his face and hacked as he accidentally breathed the detritus in.

When his lungs and vision cleared, the Witch of the Woods was gone.


	18. Chapter 18

**More fanart by Irrel! www. deviantart. com / deviation / 47539037**

* * *

**Chapter Eighteen**

* * *

A soft clang shook Katara from her deep slumber. When she pried open her sticky eyes, she discovered a basin of steaming water with a bar of soap, a towel and a sponge had been left atop the dresser. 

As she sat up, her first thought was to wonder what time it was—she thought she'd only lain down for a minute while waiting for the guard to return with news about whether or not she'd be allowed a bath, but her body was telling her she'd slept for several hours at least. But as she remembered the guard, she remembered her situation—where she was and why she was there—and the languor she'd been enjoying sank like a stone in her gullet.

_Those must have been some quiet servants_, she thought grimly, not liking the idea that she'd been so soundly asleep she had barely heard anyone enter or leave the room. Of course, after all those nights sleeping on the hard ground, the cot was as good as a down-filled mattress. She must have slept like the dead.

She lay there a moment longer, her limbs slowly waking with the rest of her body. She sifted through the ghostly tendrils of dreams slipping away from her, when last night's debacle abruptly shattered her tranquillity. She groaned and buried her face beneath her pillow. Nothing had happened, but _something_ had happened, and she still didn't know if it was a good thing or a bad thing.

_Bad thing,_ she decided as she got out of the cot and started removing her robe. In another day or so, those boiler parts would arrive and they'd fix the engine and be on their way to the Fire Nation. She just hoped Witch would be able to come through on her part of the plan.

Of course, Katara had to fulfill her part in the plot, too. Time was of the essence. Firstly, she needed to see Sokka and Aang herself to make sure they were actually aboard the ship, and let them know her plan to escape. Then she had to figure out a way to make Zuko fall madly in love with her within the next day and half; and then she'd have to break his heart and get off the ship.

Sure thing. Easy as pie. Piece of cake.

Katara groaned in despair.

She took up the sponge and hot water and scrubbed at herself, applying only a little of the harsh, caustic soap provided, then used Waterbending to wash her hair. It wasn't the luxurious soak she'd pictured she'd be allowed, but it sufficed. By the time she was done and had bent all the water out and away from her body, she was satisfied that she smelled human, and looked a smidgen better than she had a few hours ago.

_Oh gods, I hope Zuko didn't smell me last night_. The thought hit her with shocking force, and she felt a surge horror wash through her. How embarrassing would that be? What if that had been the reason he hadn't kissed her last night? One sniff and boom! There went her chances of making kissy-face with the Fire prince— Of rescuing Aang and Sokka, that is. Katara shoved the humiliating thought to the back of her mind to concentrate on the day ahead.

As she looked about, she noted her green Kyoshian dress and leather armour had also been taken away, to be laundered and oiled, she hoped. She gingerly sniffed her blue robe, catching the earthly scent of unwashed girl and dirt. She supposed she could wash it in the remaining cloudy bathwater, but she didn't think it would help much with the smell, so she shook it out as best as she could and put it on, smoothing it down to the best of her ability.

She checked herself in the mirror, intent on finger-combing her locks, and squeaked when she saw Karanna's reflection smiling back.

_Forgot I was here, didn't you?_

"It's too early for this," Katara moaned, though for all she knew, it could still be night out.

Karanna chuckled. _It's a brand-new day, and you have a prince to catch._

Katara chewed on her tongue. The idea that she had a whole day to look forward to…to spending time with Zuko and getting him to _like_ her…no, _love_ her… Her stomach turned queasily, partly with nervousness, partly with disgust, mostly with dread, or so she told herself.

She began gathering her auburn tresses so she could begin to tie the elaborate bun and braid.

_Leave your hair down,_ Karanna directed. _Men love long hair._

Katara hesitated. She hated leaving the unruly mass unbound. Left to its own devices, it would get in her face, her mouth, her food…it was a creature unto itself. But if it gave her a better chance of catching Zuko's eye at this stage, well…she ran her hands over the wavy mass and sighed. Down it is.

A knock sounded on her door. What time was it, anyways? Without a window, she couldn't say.

"Miss Katara? Are you awake and decent?" It was General Iroh. He stuck his head through the door when she responded in the positive. "Good morning, dear. Did you sleep well?"

"I slept fine, thank you," she said. "What time is it?"

"About an hour after sunup," he replied cordially. "I've brought you a few things you might need. May I come in?"

Katara gestured him in and he bustled over to the dresser and placed his armful down. There were two items: one was a lacquered tray with a beautiful vanity set including a comb and hair brush, a small hand mirror, and a set of brushes for applying makeup, though no cosmetics were included. The second item was a package wrapped in brown parcel paper and tied with twine.

Katara picked up the hairbrush with a sigh of appreciation as she began pulling it through her tangled hair. Iroh smiled.

"I got the set in the market at our last stop. I wasn't sure they'd ever get used, but it was at such a great price, I couldn't pass on it. Now I'm glad I bought it." He grinned as he unwrapped the paper parcel and shook out a simple dress of pale pink linen. "I got this for my niece more than a year ago, but something tells me you might appreciate it more." His mouth twitched wryly. "I'll have your other clothes cleaned by the end of the day if you're not comfortable in these, though I think they should fit."

Katara appraised the dress and fought to keep her features neutral. It really, really wasn't her style. Pink was just such a _girly_ colour, and this particular shade of powder peach blush really didn't suit her complexion. Even so, she was stunned by the old man's thoughtfulness and generosity. "Th-thank you… But…why?"

"Well, frankly, my dear…you smell terrible." Iroh's mouth pursed into a mushy simper. Katara's cheeks burned with embarrassment at this confirmation. He chuckled and gave her elbow a friendly squeeze. "Besides that, I like to spoil pretty girls and make my nephew jealous at all the attention they lavish on me afterwards." He laughed, then added in a conspiratorial whisper: "Don't worry—Zuko can't smell the difference between a rhino's behind and a lotus flower."

It wasn't terribly reassuring (or flattering, for that matter), but the Waterbender couldn't help but giggle. What a funny old man. "Thank you. For the dress, I mean. Thank you very much." She said it with sincerity, and remembering her manners, bowed to him.

"No need to thank me. It'll be worth the look on Prince Zuko's face. I'll leave you to put those on in private." He exited, grinning impudently.

Katara quickly changed out of her blue robes and pulled the pink linen dress on. Though a little on the girly side, the new clothing was a godsend. She could coax and beckon and sway her hips a little, certainly, but if watching the other women of her tribe had taught her anything about flirting, it was that boys responded to new and different clothes, and this was about as new and different as it came for her.

She tied the silk sash in front and checked the tiny mirror at a distance. The dress felt a little loose, but she'd managed to tie the bodice around her form comfortably and without too much excess bunching around her waist. She brushed her hair until it was glossy and rechecked herself in the mirror. Karanna grinned back at her.

_Looking good,_ she beamed. _He won't know what hit him._

Moments later, Iroh returned. His eyes glittered and he clasped his hands in front of him. "Oh, my dear, you are a vision." He made goo-goo eyes at her and she had to smile at his puerile antics. He whimpered, "Would you deem it fit for a lady such as yourself to escort a silly old man like me down for breakfast?" Hope sparkled in his watery eyes.

She glanced into the mirror once more.

_Go get him. _Karanna faded.

Katara squared her shoulders and put on her most disarming smiled. "Of course…_Uncle._" She took his arm, and he patted her hand tenderly.

"By the way, I like your hair down. It makes you look very mature." Iroh's eyes lit upon her face, the pleased expression on his wrinkled features fortifying the Waterbender's will to succeed with the prince. "Oh, to be fifty years younger…"

Katara grinned wolfishly. _Look out, Zuko, here I come._

* * *

He just had to give her new clothes, didn't he? Trust Uncle Iroh to play dress-up with their guest. 

_Prisoner,_ he reminded himself sternly as the old man helped her settle onto the cushion seat across the table from the surly prince.

"Good morning, Prince Zuko," Iroh chirruped happily. "How are you this morning?"

Zuko glared daggers at him, the bags under his eyes weighing down his frown. Iroh knew exactly how his morning was. The prince hadn't slept well at all last night, trying to decide what he would do with _her._ But his uncle gazed back innocently, a drop of silence hanging stubbornly between them.

"Aren't you going to say good morning to Katara?" the retiree asked through a clenched smile, eyes darting to the girl sitting across from him. Just for good measure, he jerked his head _that way_—at the Waterbender Zuko absolutely refused to look at for fear of falling all over himself with stupidity.

_Coward._

He slowly raised his chin, forcing his eyes to trace a path from the small hands folded in her lap, up along the seam of the delicate pink dress robe to the V of her neck line and into her mocha-coloured face. Her eyes were bright and alert, downcast for the moment, her coral lips curved into a flirtatious smile. A mass of wavy auburn hair fell all about her, soft-looking and freshly washed. A rosy hue touched her cheeks and she shyly tucked her hair behind her ears. For a second, he could have sworn she was batting her eyelashes at him.

_Gods, she's beautiful. Even if she is trying to play me for a fool._

Zuko swallowed thickly, cursing himself. "Good morning," he uttered tersely, averting his eyes and willing himself not to mirror her blush when she replied softly in kind. That _feeling_ churned in his lower gut—the same feeling that had kept him up all night.

They ate their meal of steamed pork buns with tea and fruit in silence. Zuko stuffed the bread into his mouth without tasting it, hoping to finish his meal and get out of that room as quickly as possible. He could feel Katara's gaze on him and when he snapped his head up to challenge her stare, she only smiled and tossed her hair a little, exposing the smooth skin of her slender neck and fine collarbone.

Memories of last night's fleeting kiss punched him in the gut and he reeled a little, his gaze darting to her lips again as she bit down on a slice of moon peach, her lashes fanning over her cheeks. He could see her still watching him with the poise of hyena-leopardess. She chewed the fruit delicately, her neck undulating as she swallowed, and she pushed the rest of the morsel into her mouth. Oh, how those lips would taste right now…

Wait, what was he thinking? Zuko grunted at himself and fixed his stare at the flat grey sky beyond the window. Apparently, a good night's sleep had renewed her powers of seduction and now she was trying the coy but overtly flirty tactic.

Well, he was better than that.

"So, Prince Zuko…"

The young heir to the Fire Nation throne rolled his eyes inwardly. Whenever his uncle intended to meddle, he always began with that particularly toned _So, Prince Zuko._

"…I was thinking that today you could show our lovely guest here around the ship and maybe have a picnic lunch on the upper observation deck…"

"The boiler parts should be arriving within the next day, Uncle," he snapped. "I need us to be prepared to set course for the Fire Nation as soon as possible."

Iroh blinked. "Oh, but surely we have time—"

"I don't want any more delays!" Zuko roared, slamming his teacup down impatiently. "I want the ship in working condition and I want to get away from this place as soon as possible!"

"It's all right, General Iroh," Katara said softly. "Zuko's eager to get home. I'm sure you are, too. If you're too busy to attend to me, I'll keep out of your way."

Both men looked at her with surprise as she put her bun down, eyes downcast. She looked disappointed, but she was still smiling…as if it really was okay…as if they'd do a tour some other time…because she had all the time in the world now to be with him….

And then the tiniest worm of doubt began to niggle at Zuko's conscience. What if this _wasn't_ an act? What if he was being completely paranoid about Katara's intentions? What if she really had been desperate and lonely when she'd surrendered herself to his custody? What if…

…What if she really _did_ want to see the Fire Nation? What if she really did want to spend time with him? What if she actually _liked_ him and he was being a complete rhino's behind and her kiss last night actually meant—

He abruptly cut his thoughts short. _Don't be an idiot._ He'd captured the Avatar and her brother and the lemur, and now he was getting delusions of grandeur. Just because she had new clothes and a pretty smile on did not mean she accepted her fate and actually didn't mind being his prisoner.

The next words out of her mouth did not bolster his theory.

"If you're both busy, maybe I'll just stay in my room and read…if you have any books, that is," Katara said hopefully, running a hand through her hair. Zuko's hand itched to follow that path down, and lower to the curve of her shoulder and into the folds of that soft robe…

Iroh nudged his nephew under the table and jerked his chin at the girl again.

Zuko glowered. "Actaully, we do have a library, and—"

Iroh kicked him hard in the shin. "Ow!"

"I think I can free up enough of my nephew's time so he can provide you a little company," Iroh volunteered. To his nephew, he said, "Zuko, if you're that bent on getting us on our way, I will send a few crew members to the town to bring our supplies and get word on when the shipment of parts will arrive. I still have a little clout with the commander there, it seems, and I've been meaning to practice my royal whip-cracking." He grinned roguishly then paused thoughtfully. "Unless, you'd prefer to take Katara to town and show her the sights?"

There was no way Zuko was going to let her off the ship now that he had her there. Besides, that tiny fishing port had nothing to offer in the way of entertainment, unless you wanted to look into some guy's mysterious bag. And the place was crawling with rogues and miscreants. Who knew what they'd do to a nubile girl like Katara?

Well, Zuko knew: he'd tried to hire them.

"I would rather stay here, if you don't mind," Katara piped up, and again, the two Firebenders were stunned by her willingness to trap herself onboard the ship. "I mean, as long as I'm safe…"

"Of course you're safe," Zuko interjected contemptuously. "Do you really think I'd let something happen to you?"

His pronouncement hung in the air, and slowly but surely, the teenage Firebender heard his own words ricochet through his brain. At that moment, he sorely wished he could shrink to the size of a dust mote. Iroh slurped his tea noisily, hiding his delighted smile. Katara was regarding him oddly, but as soon as their eyes met, she lowered her gaze, smiling.

The old general cleared his throat. "I think it's settled then. You can keep Katara…er, _safe_ here, and I will oversee the preparations for the journey." He leaned over to his nephew and murmured disparagingly from the corner of his mouth: "Try to keep her entertained, hmm?"

They finished the meal and Zuko's uncle exited hastily, leaving the two alone, to the prince's mild dismay. At least with his elderly relative acting as a chaperone, he could remind himself of his princely status, his situation, and the threat this girl represented. But as soon as the old man had slipped out, the room actually felt as though it got smaller and warmer.

An uneasy quiet, punctuated by the distant cries of birds beyond the shore and the shushing of the sea lapping against the beach, settled over the two teens. A small, discomfited smile played across Katara's lips. She tossed her hair again—an affectation that only seemed to assert itself if that mane of wavy chocolate hair was left loose—and adjusted the cuffs of her new pink dress robe, which Zuko was starting to like far too much.

He was trying to gather his scattered thoughts, to reclaim his good sense so he could fight this girl on her terms, when she spoke.

"About last night—" her blue eyes blazed against cherry-red cheeks "—I'm…sorry if I offended you."

Zuko stared as she went on, nervously twirling a lock of hair around her index finger. "I know you're a prince…I know I'm just a peasant…I had no right to…_force_ myself upon you…"

Zuko nearly burst out with a vehement denial. No, she wasn't just a peasant! She was extraordinary and brave and beautiful and oh so wonderful to look at…but his arrogance chose that moment to rear its ugly head before he could stop it.

"You _are_ just a peasant," he said, and winced inwardly, regretting he hadn't stuffed a bun into his maw before he could have replied. Damn stupid mouth! Now was the perfect opportunity to gain ground in this game they played, so he amended, "But you travel…_travelled_ with the Avatar, and have done many things other little girls have not."

Katara scowled. "I'm not a _little girl_." She puffed up her chest, and Zuko's eyes were immediately drawn to her budding form. No, he corrected, she definitely wasn't a _little_ girl. "I'm going to be fifteen soon. One more year after that and I'll be of marrying age." She tucked a lock of hair behind her ear, her hands fidgeting, trying to find some way to occupy themselves. The prince was starting to wonder how she managed to blush on command like that.

"In any case," she continued, shrinking back down to her mousy persona, "I didn't mean to upset you. I promise I won't try to…you know…again." She looked up shyly. "Unless…" she let the rest of the sentence hang, and she sucked her lower lip in between her teeth, the corners of her mouth turning up ever so slightly in what might have been a suggestive smile.

Zuko felt something in his head burst and rush somewhere below the belt.

He closed his eyes and took a steadying breath. This was all a part of her playact. She was not interested in him in that way. She was the greatest actress in the world…but he would not be outdone. He was determined not to let her win this game, and he'd be damned if he gave in, took the easy road and locked her up in her room.

That's right. He was the crown prince of the Fire Nation. He'd been a member of the royal court almost all his life, an actor on one of the most subtle and deadly stages in world politics. He could do this. He could out-act this Waterbending peasant, and he'd prevail over her, too. This was what he had wanted all along, wasn't it? To have the girl on his terms, on his turf? To win her over as a prince was wont to do?

His lips bowed up, he arched his eyebrow at her intriguingly, and asked in a low drawl, "Unless what, Katara?" He deliberately dipped a finger onto his plate, pressing some stray bread crumbs into the pad of his index, then licked them off carelessly, as if she weren't watching him.

The Water girl gaped a little, a hot blush crawling up her neck, making her already reddened complexion duskier. She looked pointedly away, the corners of her mouth curled slightly upwards. "Nothing," she breathed softly. Her cheeks were on fire now, and she was tugging at the collar of her robe uncomfortably.

He smiled deliciously. _Zuko, 1; Katara…_

Well, she was ahead of him. But he'd scored against her finally.

Emboldened by this small victory, he pondered his next steps, dismissing the idea of simply imprisoning her, easy as that would have been. Now that he'd manage to find his footing in this plot, he wanted to continue his dissemblance and see how many more points he could score against her. Play the game… He repeated it like a mantra. He would win. He was smarter, faster, a prince…

"Uncle Iroh's suggestion was a good one. I'll take you on a tour, and ask cook to prepare us a picnic luncheon," he said decisively. "I don't see any reason why I should lock you up."

Actually, there were hundreds of reasons, but he decided to ignore them for now.

Katara beamed at him, her eyes sparkling with mirth. "Thank you. It sounds like fun." She smiled, showing small, even white teeth, and Zuko's heart flipped over.

He was getting ready to stand, but halted when he felt things shift uncomfortably beneath his clothes. He settled down, embarrassed. "I think I'll just finish my tea first."


	19. Chapter 19

* * *

**Chapter Nineteen**

* * *

The tour was conducted with little fanfare. As Zuko led the pretty Water girl in pink around, the crew cast them strange looks when they thought their prince and commander wasn't looking. Of course, the teenage Firebender wasn't entirely oblivious to the soldiers' nudges and winks…not that his glaring daggers at them would keep them from gossiping later. 

As they wandered in a somewhat desultory fashion through the ship, he found he had very little to say about the vessel he'd lived on for two years, limiting his comments to half-hearted generic labels like, "This is the navigation room. We have maps here," and, "This is the library. It has lots of books and scrolls."

Katara was polite about the bland descriptions, and asked only a few questions, but the prince cursed himself for not being a little more eloquent or entertaining. What had happened to that boy who had talked to her so freely about art and history and food, the one that had charmed her back on Ho'Wan Island?

_That was never you. That was a long time ago, and it wasn't real. Get over it._

He prudently avoided all the sensitive areas of the ship that he thought were susceptible to sabotage: the boiler room (which was off-limits with the disastrous tune-up in progress anyhow), the engine room, the rhino stalls, the miniboat hold, the catapult keep, and a half dozen more. Needless to say, Zuko was not about to show her the brig, and for some reason, she didn't even ask, didn't even badger him about seeing the Avatar or her brother. In the end, that meant she only saw about half of the ship.

"Does she have a name?" Katara asked during a lull in Zuko's lacklustre account of the boat's short history on the sea.

He cocked his head. "Who?"

"Her," Katara said, rapping her knuckles against the outer hull with a twisted smile, as if it was obvious. "Does she have a name?"

Zuko looked at her as though she'd grown a second head. "Why would it have a name? And why would _it_ be a 'she'?"

"All the Water Tribe boats are shes, and they all have names," Katara said matter-of-factly. "You mean your boat was never given launching ceremony?"

"It's a _ship_, not a boat. And I didn't intend to live on it for the rest of my life," he responded testily. "It doesn't need a name."

Katara backed off with a shrug, though he could see the corners of her mouth had pulled into a tight line. In silence, they walked out of the tower, having exhausted all the areas of the ship they could safely explore. They'd even stopped at the door to his room, though he hadn't taken her in—Momo was in there, and she didn't need to know that. Why he had felt compelled to point out the location of his personal sleeping quarters was something he didn't want to explore too thoroughly, but he supposed it didn't hurt for her to know.

_As if she could find her way to your room, even if she wanted to, _he berated himself.

They emerged once more onto the open deck and stopped right where they had stood the previous evening, a landmark transformed by pale daylight. The stillness of the silvery fog-shrouded water all around made Zuko feel agoraphobic, especially compared to the closeness of night—one he'd shared with the lovely Water girl with him now. There were no shadows he could secrete his discomfiture in now; only the thin, diffuse sunlight that washed the colour out of the world. leaving shades of grey upon grey that made even him a little depressed. He would be glad once the ship headed south again to sunnier climes. The damp, chilly weather and constant lack of sunlight was really starting to bleach his pale skin from ivory to bone-white.

Katara waited patiently, looking up at the tower and the low, overcast sky, her gaze meandering in search of their next destination. Unfortunately, Zuko had completed his tour, and to his chagrin, barely an hour had passed.

What was he supposed to do with her now?

He kicked himself mentally again. Why was he even asking? She was his prisoner!

"I'll take you back to your room now," Zuko said abruptly, looking for an end to this awkward torture. To his frustration, he realized he was no good at this subterfuge—whatever game he'd started out playing was one he was quickly losing. And he hated to lose.

Katara's head snapped to his face. "No!" she clasped onto his arm, looking up at him with pleading eyes. "Please, Zuko…I…I don't want to be alone." She said it rather loudly, pleadingly. Her eyes glinted with burning hope and they kept flicking up towards the sky, as if she were speaking to his ponytail.

Though startled, Zuko shook her off. "What is _wrong_ with you? One minute you're cheerful, the next you're clingy."

"I'm not clingy!" Katara yelled back, but she cut herself off, biting her tongue. A kind of wilful intensity filled her eyes and voice as she cried, "I just want to see Sokka and Aang. I don't know why you won't let me see them. I can't do anything to help them!" She was almost shouting in his face. He pushed her away, more than a little annoyed at having his eardrums assaulted by her shrill cry. Why on earth was she reiterating the obvious?

And suddenly, as if the vehemence of the moment had drained out of her, her tone softened once more as she searched for a properly demure response. "I just…I can't…"

He stilled his rolling eyes. _Girls really are crazy. _

Now would be a good time to ditch her, he decided. Wanting to keep her on a short emotional leash, Zuko moderated, "Look, I have work to do, things to prepare for the journey. I'm going home, and I want to be ready to leave as soon as possible." He had an excuse to escape now, and if he could just get out of her cloying presence for a little while, he could think a little more clearly about how to handle this prickly, delicate, wonderful and infinitely difficult girl.

"I can help!" Katara piped up, almost urgently. "I can help you…with whatever you need."

He severely doubted it and told her so. Indignity crinkled her face and she glowered, eyes glittering dangerously.

"What? You think just because I'm a girl that I can't help you make a bunch of lists so you can double check your inventory and crew rosters? That I can't map out a navigation plan? That I don't know how to stow gear so its water safe?"

The Firebender blinked at her, nonplussed. What a moody mule.

Katara said, "I'm from the Water Tribe, Zuko. We may have different boats, but we all sail the same seas under the same stars." She folded her arms over her chest, jaw jutting out mulishly. "So are you going to let me help you or not?"

He smiled. He couldn't help but smile. This was the Katara he knew, the defiant girl who faced a challenge when presented one; the feisty girl who'd told him to jump in a river; the girl with more spirit than most girls in the Fire Nation. She wasn't some little flippant tidbit in a pink dress. Even if it she did look awfully cute in it…

"All right," he drawled in mock challenge, and held out his hand. "The Navigation room's this way. Let's see what you can do, _peasant._"

She sent him a slit-eyed look, took his hand, and suffered to be led up to the Nav room.

* * *

As the prince led the Waterbender back into that tower, a black shape wheeling high above veered away, flapping speedily back to his nesting grounds to make his report. 

Even with that clumsy human tongue, Bai-Bai had got the message loud and clear: Katara's plan had been altered. She was being kept from her companions, probably being boarded separately and likely in a room without a window he could access. He had no way right now of passing messages between Witch and the girl, no way to coordinate a change in the circumstances.

The great Spirit crow furrowed his brow in consternation. Ocean Eyes was on her own. She would have to make due with what she could accomplish on her end, and trust him and Witch to work things from theirs.

The question was, had they done enough on their end to get the ball rolling?

* * *

Sokka lolled about his cage, bored. He would prefer mopping the deck to just sitting here, watching Aang breathe. 

"I don't suppose you want to play twenty questions?" he asked Twitchy, the non-talkative one. Guard Two, who Sokka had learned was named Juno, had stepped out to bring lunch down. Why a servant didn't bring a tray down to them instead, Sokka didn't quite understand. He figured it was probably another of those stupid restrictions Zuko had placed on his VIPs. The _P_ standing for Prisoners, of course.

Twitchy said nothing, huffing.

The Water boy still couldn't believe that Twitchy could just stand there, silently, for hours one end without saying or doing anything. Surely he was sleeping behind that mask? He ribbed the man a little. "You know, it's not like I'm a spy or anything. It's okay to talk to me."

"We're under strict orders not to consort with the enemy," Twitchy parroted back. "It's a violation of Prince Zuko's rules. To disobey orders dishonours me, my family, and the whole military—"

"Whoa, whoa, easy there. You're actually starting to speak in full sentences." Sokka snickered, and Twitchy clammed up again, his back snapping into an even tauter line. "I mean, really, how long have you been on this ship? The others don't seem to have any problems bending the rules a little. I'm totally harmless." Well, not totally harmless, but he wasn't about to let anyone else know that.

By playing the obedient and entertaining prisoner, Sokka managed to eek out that Guard One (Ching), Guard Two (Juno) and Twitchy were the only three soldiers assigned to rotational guard duty over the prisoners for the week. By next week, another set of soldiers would rotate, and so on. If he was going to win any more ground with these men and manage an escape, he needed to win Twitchy over.

Twitchy stood stock-still, uncovered fists clenched tightly. It was a full minute before he replied tightly, "Two months. I came on board just before the ship headed to the South Pole."

Sokka nodded and probed further. "Been in the army long?"

Another pause. "That's not important."

The Water boy tilted his head to one side and examined the Fire Nation soldier head to toe. "Just…how old are you, anyhow?"

"That's not important, either," Twitchy repeated. "Now be quiet."

"Jeez, do you always obey orders to their fullest extent? This isn't exactly the Fire Navy's flagship, you know."

"It's the _crown prince's_ ship, and I am honoured to be serving him," Twitchy recited loudly.

Sokka snorted derisively. "Honoured, eh? From what I hear, Prince Zuko's lack of honour is what got him out on this tiny little boat. Isn't he in exile or something?"

Twitchy practically stomped his foot. "That's beside the point. There isn't a dishonourable bone in His Highness's body. Not one. I saw him rescue the helmsman from falling off the tower during a _lightning storm._ I've seen the prince show greater strength and bravery than some men who've been in the army all their lives. I may not have been on this ship long, but Prince Zuko is a fearless and devoted leader. He will be my Fire Lord one day, make no mistake. And I will be loyal to him until the end, through whatever trials he has yet to face!"

Sokka was floored by the soldier's near-fanatical dedication, not to mention his tirade.

"If you love him so much, why don't you just marry him?" he muttered, though the cynical words felt weak.

Twitchy's devotion did give the young man something to think about, though. Did this young soldier really have that much faith in Ozai's spawn? Did he really believe that capturing the Avatar made Prince Zuko a good leader? That dooming the world was a good political decision?

Then again, this was a Fire Nation soldier he was talking to. They had coal for brains, pitch for blood, and smoke for a soul. "So let me ask you this," Sokka challenged him. "Do _you_ think bringing the Avatar back to the Fire Nation is the way to end this war?"

"I'm a soldier. I don't think, I take orders," Twitchy snapped.

"In that case, I order you to open this door and release me!" Sokka pronounced with goofy pomp. The guard stared silently at him, but did not obey.

Oh, well, it was worth a shot.

At that moment, Juno returned with two bowls of rice and fish on a tray, sliding one each past the bars and into the cells. Sokka took his with murmured thanks and began to eat, eyeing Aang's untouched portion quizzically.

"Not that I'm complaining, but why is it you keep leaving food for him, anyway? I mean, he's asleep and the doctor feeds him that sugar solution every time he comes in," Sokka asked.

Juno took up his position, pike in hand, and answered. "Fire Nation Prisoner of War code of conduct. Care to recite it, 'Twitchy'?" he jibbed the younger soldier.

"'A prisoner shall receive one meal every eight hours, or the equivalent of, consisting of a portion at least the size of the prisoner's doubled fist, with a balance of vegetables, meat, and rice or bread, without undue delay and of fair and edible quality,'" came the awkwardly worded citation from behind the mask. He added waspishly, "And stop calling me Twitchy!"

Juno laughed. It was so strange to hear that deep chortle come out from behind that skull-like faceplace "Twitchy's fresh out of the academy. Got his stripes and was lucky enough to be picked up for scut duty on Zuko's Ship of Fools at one of the ports while we were docked for supplies." He addressed Twitchy over his shoulder, "I tell you, kid, you're one lucky Firebender."

"I should have been at the front serving our country," Twitchy asserted gruffly, but he raised his chin defiantly. "But I will not fail Prince Zuko in his mission." His chest puffed out a little further.

Juno shook his head, a note of sadness in his voice. "You just keep telling yourself that, kid. You may never win any medals for valour serving with Prince Zuko, but you'll understand me one day when I tell you, you are _lucky_."

"Lucky?" Sokka looked from one to the other.

Juno turned to him, the pointed helmet tilting inquisitively to one side. "You do know what happens to young men at the war front, don't you?"

Sokka only stared. It wasn't something he liked to think about.

Juno continued on, his voice pitched lowly so the other guard couldn't hear. "Twitchy—er, Li, there—he's only nineteen. Barely worn in his combat boots. If he'd gone to the front like he was supposed to, instead of being signed on here, well, you can imagine he'd be smeared on the underside of some Earthbender's boulder right about now."

"But…you're all practically in exile. You don't get to go home to your families, and you don't even get to fight. Why would you want to serve on Zuko's ship?"

Juno threw his head back and chuckled shortly, that pang of sadness choking him a little. "Oh, to be young and fearless and invincible…" He shook his head. Then he did something Sokka didn't expect: He removed the faceplace and pulled off his helmet.

Sokka blinked at the man with the dark hair tied in the traditional top knot, a thin moustache and trimmed beard grizzling his face. Crows feet and smile lines carved his middle-aged features, but as his face broke into a wry grin, the Water boy had the sense that Juno was younger than he looked.

Unmuffled by the faceplate, Juno's deep voice resonated in Sokka's bones. "You asked why we keep leaving food for the Avatar when he obviously can't eat. Do you also wonder why we haven't beaten you for intelligence? Wonder why we keep sending a doctor in to check on both of you? It's written in Fire Nation military codes of conduct. Believe it or not, we do have them, though you wouldn't think it from what's been going on all over the place." His lips pressed flat, but he went on. "I'm betting even the Earth Kingdom has something similar. Decency shouldn't be something that _needs_ to be spelled out, but it is."

Sokka stared up at him blankly. The soldier could see the young Water Tribe boy didn't understand what he was talking about. He struggled to explain.

"Sokka," his name on the Firebender's lips jarred him, "I know you'll find this hard to believe, being on that side of the bars and all, but this is a _good_ ship. General Iroh is a fair and decent man, as is Zuko, though he doesn't always show it." He smiled briefly.

"Most of us are family men. We have sons and daughters, some fighting in the war. We treat our prisoners the way we'd want our own children treated if…if they were to be captured." He pursed his lips grimly. At the other end of the hall, Li shuffled from one foot to the other.

When Juno continued his voice was a little hoarse, his eyes clouding with pain. "I've been serving a long time in this war. Almost fifteen years now. I've served on ships that stuffed POWs ten to a cell like yours, left them with no food or water for days, tortured them, beat them, used them for entertainment…" He clenched his fists. "Me…I never took part in those sick games. To do so would not only be dishonourable, it would be inhuman. We, as a people, as the Fire Nation, are less because of men who do the disgusting things I've seen done to other men."

The Firebender set his helmet on the floor and sat down on a crate, leaning his pike against the wall. His hands hung limply between his knees and he looked into Sokka's face. The soldier's eyes were distant and watery with distressing reminiscence.

"General Iroh found me among a group of soldiers being disciplined for disobedience. Our platoon had captured an Earth Kingdom man in the woods near camp. He was a cabbage merchant, but the commanders suspected him of espionage. They wanted us to torture him then burn him alive…"

His voice died and he fidgeted.

"In the end, the cabbage man managed to…get away. Me and a few others were held responsible for his 'escape'. Luckily, before the court martial began, the prince's ship had pulled into port and Iroh drafted me to work on this ship.

"The platoon leader was glad to be rid of me, I suppose, and no one refuses the Dragon of the West. I don't know about the others… They were probably sent to the front lines. Iroh couldn't take them all, you see, it would look too suspicious…" His mouth pressed into a thin line. "My younger brother was among them…."

Juno's face crumpled and he took a moment to recompose himself. He rubbed his temples briskly and looked into the prisoner's face again. "I thank the Spirits every day that General Iroh found me and spared me so that I might one day live to see my wife and children again." The glint in his eyes was fierce with hope. "He didn't just save my life—he saved my sanity. My humanity."

Sokka looked away, frowning, feeling intensely conflicted. He hated feeling like this, torn between his loyalty to his own people and his compassion for this man. His throat was clogged with emotion, and he swallowed thickly, refusing to let this be the end of the discourse.

"The Fire Nation attacked our village when I was barely 12," he rasped suddenly, as though this fact could be used as a shield against the sympathy piercing his soul. He fought to speak louder. "They destroyed our homes and killed many people…including my mother." His voice was pitched low now with the deep-seated rage and grief he had not touched for a long time. His fists tightened. He couldn't meet this man's eyes now, not when he wasn't wearing that faceplate; and somehow, it made him feel weak.

Juno lowered his face. "I'm sorry to hear that."

The young Water Tribe warrior felt like he should say more, about his mother, his father, his broken family and the shattered lives of the other villagers. He felt for the man, but he was the enemy. He'd wanted to use his own grief against the soldier's heartrending parable, but Sokka was too inexperienced, unskilled, overeager, and overburdened to be wielding such a weapon with any kind of finesse. It was a powerful thing, the darkness he carried inside him. He wanted it all to come out in a long torrent of hate, to tell someone (_this man!_), to blame someone (_this man!_), to punish someone (_this man!_)—but he couldn't do it.

He'd never hidden his dislike of the Fire Nation, of course—Aang had often warned him of his racist tendencies and told him regularly to ease off on the Firebender jokes. But this undiluted anger was something different, something very personal, spawned from a seed of malice that had been planted the day he'd seen his mother's cold body lying unmoving in the snow.

Dad had felt it, too, he knew. One night, shortly after all the bodies had been interred, Sokka had heard him howling his grief at the moon, swearing oaths to vengeance and bloodshed, pledging to kill ten Firebenders for every villager who'd died in the attack. That pronouncement, thunderously railed at the star-spattered sky—a negative mirror-image of the blood-spattered snow—had made Sokka feel better, stronger, empowered—not just a helpless and pathetic adolescent who could barely hold his own spear.

But then Gran-Gran had interceded. With tears in her eyes, she told him that no child should be witness to such raw anguish. Hakoda was allowed his fury, but was wiser and stronger not to act on it.

"Grief is fertile ground for hatred," she'd said carefully. "If hate takes root, then nothing good can grow from your experiences."

Gran-Gran's sage warning was not to be ignored, especially when she used proverbs. A short while later, Dad and the other men of the tribe left to fight in the war, but Hakoda's anger had dissipated by then. They had a duty to protect what was left of their people, and to make sure other villages did not suffer the same fate. Duty had driven them to fight in this war, he'd explained to his children. Duty and love, not revenge. That was why Sokka had been left behind.

"_Being a man is knowing where you're needed most, and for you right now that's here protecting your sister."_

It had taken time, but Sokka had learned to gloss over his pain with a crooked smile, his sharp wit and a few sardonic comments. But under the veneer of his debonair charm and his warrior's pride flowed that infinite darkness he dared not explore. To let those sinister feelings overwhelm him…well, that just wasn't Sokka.

Unable to fight him with words or weapons or fists, he forced himself to look up into the Firebender's face. But any intention to blame, judge or feel ill-will toward his jailor dissipated when their eyes, blue and gold, met, separated only by thin lengths of steel and a hundred years of bloodshed. For a disorienting moment, Sokka wasn't sure who was on the cage side of the bars.

"I'm sorry," Juno said again, more quietly. But he did not try to defend his military's actions. "We're soldiers. We do what our superiors tell us. We fight because it's what we're trained to do. We kill if necessary and on orders. We're not all perfect, but we're still men. Killers, yes, but not monsters. We'll do our job in the end, but we don't take it to extremes. Not if we don't have to. Not if we're not ordered to." He pinned him with an aggrieved look. "Not anyone on _this_ ship, anyhow."

He slowly turned to Li again, and the younger man trembled. "You're lucky, Li. Believe me, you're damned _lucky_."

Juno turned away, surreptitiously swiping at his eyes. He replaced the helmet and faceplate and shakily took his post.


	20. Chapter 20

**I'll take this opportunity now to thank everyone for their wonderful reviews so far. Without your support, I would not continue writing.**

**On a side note: Juno was named after Juno Beach, the Canadian landing site for the Normandy invasion and the second most heavily defended of the five other landing sites from this campaign. According to Wikipedia, 15,000 men went in: 340 were killed, and 574 were wounded.**

* * *

**Chapter Twenty**

* * *

"But if we only stop _here_, we'll have to travel more than five days non-stop without sight of land!" Katara exclaimed, jamming her finger on the map. 

"It's the shortest route! Do you even know how long your way would take us?" Zuko shouted back.

The Water girl rolled her eyes heavenward, exasperated. "What does it _matter_ how long it takes to get back? You're on your way home! The last thing you want to do is get caught out in a storm unprepared and get thrown off course, or worse! At least this way, you'll hit a major port town every two days so you can re-supply and stretch your legs."

He ground his teeth, mustering all the patience he could together. "These _towns_ you're pointing to are _Earth Kingdom towns!_" Zuko wanted to shake the stupidity out of her. "If we sail within sight of them, we'll be attacked!"

"And _whose_ fault is that?" she asked haughtily.

Zuko threw his hands up in defeat, hastening a step back to keep himself from lashing out at the idiot girl.

They'd been at this for nearly two hours, with Jee and the Helmsman looking on in interest. When the two had walked in, with Prince Zuko insisting they "let the young lady try her hand at navigation," they'd stepped aside and let them have free rein with the maps and rulers.

It had been a game at first, with the Firebender looking over her shoulder as Katara efficiently plotted a course—a bad course, he felt—to the Fire Nation. Zuko's suggestions became mockery, which then turned into snide digs, and then into full-out insults. Now the two teenagers looked about ready to kill each other.

"I need some fresh air!" Katara proclaimed suddenly, and without any leave, turned on her heel and stomped out the door. Zuko irately watched her go, long chocolate-coloured tresses flying out behind her. _Dumb idiot girl,_ he thought crudely. _What does she know about anything, anyhow?_ His fingers clenched tightly around the edge of the table.

Jee and the Helmsman exchanged looks and began chewing their cheeks, eyes twinkling with mirth. The prince glowered at them. What was so funny?

Then Zuko suddenly realized he'd been left behind.

"HEY!" He barrelled after his prisoner, feeling the flush of humiliation crawl up his neck as the men's gazes followed him out the Nav room.

_Make a fool of me, will she?_

Katara was halfway down the corridor, slowly pacing away. Zuko ran up to her and grabbed her upper arm, yanking her around.

"You're still my prisoner here!" He blasted in her face, and pushed her roughly up against the cold metal wall. "You don't get to leave me without my say so, and you _especially_ don't get to turn your back on me!" He'd seized her wrists and was pinning them at shoulder level against the wall.

Katara winced beneath the viselike grip. "Ow, stop… Stop, Zuko, you're hurting me… Stop!" Her eyes filled with tears.

The red haze of anger evaporated beneath the cold blue plea and Zuko came crashing back to his senses. He released her and backed quickly away as she rubbed at her wrists, recoiling from him.

He looked at his hands, then at her, shocked at himself. "I…I didn't mean to—"

"No," Katara said lowly, eyes averted as she inspected her arms. "Don't say anything."

He reached out to her. "Katara, I didn't—"

"Don't touch me!" she yelped, stepping back. And then she said, "I want to go back to my room."

"I didn't mean to hurt you!" Zuko yelled, and she took another step away from him, looking ready to bolt. "I didn't…"

"I'm going back to my room." She watched him warily, hurt and just a little fear flickering over her face. She stared around her perplexedly. Exasperated, she wailed, "Are you going to show me where it is?" A tear rolled off her cheek and splashed to the floor.

Zuko sighed through his teeth, tamping down his swelling guilt and baffled as to how he should deal with Katara's tears. He really did feel sorry. He hadn't meant to hurt her, didn't think he'd even been gripping her wrists that hard. But she'd made him so mad…

He shook himself. He was better than this. He wasn't supposed to let this mere girl rile him this way, and yet she had. And that look in her eyes…

A strange kind of panic seized him then. He felt as if something was slipping away from him, sliding out of his oily grasp and dissolving away like ropes of sooty smoke.

He had to make this right. He had to…

"You haven't eaten yet. It's lunchtime," he asserted with forced quiet. "Just…have lunch with me first."

Katara frowned severely at him, as though he'd just proposed she hug and kiss a poisonous spider-snake.

He forced himself to look her in the eye. "I'm sorry I hurt you. Just… Have lunch with me. _Please._" He schooled himself not to nibble his lip in worry.

She hesitated, staring down at her shuffling feet, still absently rubbing at her wrists. The longer that moment dragged on, the worse Zuko felt. Even so, a little spark of anger flared within him. _She_ had been the one to wrong _him_…why did he have to be the one to apologize? Did she even know what it cost him to say he was sorry? To have to beg for forgiveness?

No, not beg. He refused to believe that was what he was doing. He was offering an apology: whether she accepted it or not was up to her, though the wench should be grateful—ecstatic!—and just take it for what it was…

Slowly, Katara nodded and managed to tilt her chin back up, a little defiantly even. A knot of dread in his chest loosened, though his gut still clenched uncomfortably. His heart had stopped cold for a moment there, but now it was galloping at a mile a minute, and he cursed himself for letting his emotions (and his body) become so involved with what the girl thought.

He let out a short breath. "Okay…okay. C'mon, let's go." He offered her his hand, and she accepted it tentatively, slipping her tiny palm into his in a gesture of trust and acceptance.

It wouldn't mean much to anyone else, but to Zuko, it meant more than anything ever had…save his honour.

* * *

_Not bad, not bad at all._

It hadn't hurt. Not a bit. But it had been the perfect opportunity to ratchet up some much-needed sympathy, especially considering that their heated exchange—shouting match, more like—in the Navigation room had gotten out of control.

As soon as she'd laid her hands on those maps, Katara had been overwhelmed by a sense of nostalgia, remembering the days when her father would ask her to plan a game trail for the hunters to traverse. She didn't know if he ever actually followed the meandering paths she'd plotted through the ice-strewn arctic waters, but it showed him she knew how to do it. Demonstrating her skills and abilities had always pleased Katara's father, and herself, too.

Standing over that table in the Nav room with those shiny implements had brought it all back. Rulers and pins and string in hand, Katara had been so immersed in her work that she'd entirely forgotten herself and what she was supposed to be trying to achieve. She'd originally wanted to get Zuko to kindly teach the ignorant peasant girl the oh-so-complicated workings of a compass, but pride had gotten the better of her, and her meek and girlish demeanour had vanished.

Once she'd realized how off the track she'd gotten, she'd hastily exited, needing a moment to calculate her next moves very carefully. Fortunately, Zuko's fiery temper actually aided her cause this time. His outburst had played right into her needs, and she'd poured on the pity act thick, pretending fear at his emotional flare-up.

And he'd taken the bait, hook, line and sinker. Katara smiled inwardly, pleased by her own artifice, but at the same time, something about all this was nagging at her. If he had any inkling of her ruse, then wouldn't it be more logical for him to call her on it and simply lock her up? Surely the prince would not show so much kindness towards her if he knew she was playing him.

And if he _didn't_ know she was playing him, and this was the real Prince Zuko, then that meant he wasn't at all the bad guy she thought he was. But if he _did_ know she was playing him, and he was still acting this _nice_…well, what did that mean?

_Nice._ There was that word again. She surreptitiously made a face and pushed the confusing thoughts away. Zuko was the enemy, she told herself firmly. He wasn't _nice_. He wasn't _kind_. He wasn't anything but that idiot boy who she had to make love her so she could finally get off this dumb ship. That was all. She squeezed his hand in defiance.

Her heart jolted when he squeezed back.

He led her out to the upper observation deck in strained silence. Despite the fact that she knew this was all just an act, she felt disappointed—betrayed, even. She thought the prince had more control over his emotions. She hadn't expected him to react with such violence toward her for such a small slight.

Noticing the trembling in her hands, she realized with a shock that he _had _scared her. His sharp gold eyes had burned so fiercely that for a second she'd actually been afraid of what he was going to do.

Was Zuko really that passionate…that _violent?_ Or had he overreacted specifically to her? The tensions between them had been running high since she'd arrived, after all. And she hadn't exactly made her presence an easy one to deal with.

But something else was bothering Katara, too. The moment he'd touched her, it'd felt like a bolt of pure lightning had blazed through her senses right down to her toenails, leaving every one of her nerves pinging with energy, making her shiver. In that brief second, as he'd wrenched her around, she had fully expected—_wanted—_to feel his lips crush hers, devouring her with the same hunger that had suddenly surged through her.

Another rush of arousal had hit her when he'd pushed her up against the wall, his hot hands circling her wrists a strange and thrilling contrast to the cold hard surface against her back. Somewhere inside her, it felt as though she'd been skewered through with a rod of pure heat. It had been exciting and terrifying and wholly alien in a way that made her flesh squirm pleasantly.

Worst of all, though, was that she couldn't exactly understand why she'd felt that way when, only seconds before, she'd been infuriated by Zuko's imperiousness. Had she not recognized that heated moment as an important opportunity to further her mission to rescue her friends, she might have lost control and closed the gap between their hard-wrought mouths. She nearly had. And this, above everything else, scared her.

He broke through her thoughts as he gestured to the seat cushions spread over the thick woven-reed tatami mats on the floor.

"Sit. Please." He added that last word as though he wasn't used to saying it, and she focused with renewed determination on her mission, reminding herself that Sokka and Aang were not likely having picnics in the brig.

Katara obediently sat down, crossing her legs in lotus position, and arranged her dress robes around her. Two servants brought and uncovered several platters of finger foods, poured them each a goblet of watered-down wine, then left the two alone at Zuko's murmured order.

She waited, remaining obstinately silent.

"Eat." His invitation wasn't an order exactly, but it smacked of one. Hesitating just long enough to make him think she'd renege on his request to lunch with him, she finally complied, taking a sip of the sweet, fragrant wine from her goblet. Zuko watched her tensely before sipping his own. They began eating.

The quiet was as thick as the mist on the coast as they munched on fried crab cakes, skewers of chicken meat, cucumber slices and vinegar-soaked rice balls with sesame and lotus seeds. Katara gulped down more of her wine, feeling strangely thirsty and tired. Who knew playing a nice girl would be so exhausting! She couldn't even count how many times she'd had to stifle a snide remark or an insult all morning, and idly wondered how this repression would affect her stress level.

She couldn't believe so much had happened since yesterday—yesterday!—when she'd come on board. With a strange kind of smug satisfaction, she realized she'd already managed to kiss Zuko, have a fight with him, and make him feel profoundly guilty about hurting her, all within 24 hours.

A sourness invaded her conscience, but the Waterbender reminded herself why she was doing all this, and why the Firebender deserved it. She was stringing his emotions along like a kite in a hurricane…and she wasn't done with him yet, not by a longshot. The string still had to be cut.

It almost made her feel sorry for him.

Almost.

She refilled both their cups with wine from the pitcher and drank deeply from hers. Zuko eyed her curiously and she managed a weak smile for him. The lines in his brow softened and he went back to nibbling his food.

Katara sat back and relaxed, enjoying the warmth in her belly, the cool wind on her face and the weak sun above. She didn't realize she'd been so hot within the ship, and the brisk mountain air was welcome on her fevered skin.

She looked over at Zuko, who was gazing off into the distance, his back ramrod straight even as he sat there, chewing on a piece of starfruit. She watched his lips—the palest shade of peach, she thought—as he ate, and felt liquid warmth spread from her belly and down to her toes. Her eyes trailed over his proud and noble poise, and she flippantly wondered what it would take to make him relax and let loose.

Feeling a little bold—and knowing she needed to mend some fences with him—she reached forward and took a bunch of grapes up, then scooted closer to the Fire prince, sitting hip to hip with him.

"What…what are you doing?" he asked, pulling away slightly from her as she held the grapes up to his face.

She plucked one and popped it into her mouth. "Mmm. Very sweet. Try one," she pushed the grapes into his face again and giggled when the blanket slipped beneath her and she pitched to one side. Zuko caught and righted her.

"Are…are you _drunk?_" he asked incredulously.

"What? No!" Katara grinned. How silly of him to think that. "Not at all. Here, grapes are good." She plucked one of the fat red globes off the bunch and shoved it past his lips as he opened his mouth to protest. He bit down, his teeth nipping the end of her index finger, and Katara felt a zap of pleasure ride through her. She snatched her hand away as Zuko chewed, smirking.

"Don't get bitten, now," he said huskily, and parted his lips for another grape.

Katara gulped, her cheeks burning. Now he was _expecting_ her to feed him? But this was exactly what she'd wanted, wasn't it? To draw him into her thrall, to force him to be close to her—all part of the plan, right?

She fumblingly pulled another grape off the bunch and fed it to him. A bright spark of challenge lit his honeyed eyes as she let her finger tease his lower lip, sliding him a coy, slit-eyed look. He didn't shrink away. Wouldn't. And it irked her and excited her in a way she did not comprehend.

She fed him another, and Zuko rolled his tongue out to snatch the fruit from her, the tip of that slimy organ just flicking her digit. She flinched a little, but giggled to hide her wariness, refusing to be the first to shy away from this perplexing contest. She stubbornly held out another piece of fruit to him, sending him a look that asked, _What are you going to do now?_

This time, he snapped his head forward, snatching the grape delicately between his teeth. He reared his head back and Katara couldn't help but let her eyes wander down the length of his flexing jaw and down his powerful neck. Her gaze journeyed farther, imagining the thickening of his corded muscles into broad shoulders and a sturdy, defined chest. She wondered idly if she'd ever see that chiselled torso again, but quickly stamped the thought out as he sucked the grape in, chewed thoughtfully, and puckered his lips, indicating that he wanted another.

They went through a whole small bunch like that, eyes never quite meeting, lips and fingers flirting dangerously. Katara felt warm, giddy and accomplished. She hadn't even noticed how close she was sitting to Zuko until he leaned across, the plane of his chest brushing against hers in a moment of shocking contact. His mouth was dangerously close to hers and she could smell the fruit on his lips. All she had to do was lean forward a little…

He took another bunch of grapes from the bowl at her side and drew away, a knee-melting smile gracing those princely lips. "Now you," he said.

The Waterbender flushed at the large-seeming finger and thumb pinching the fruit to her lips. She looked into Zuko's face and saw his expectant leer, daring her, defying her. Her eyes narrowed and she leaned forward despite the tiny inner voice raging at her about how very, very wrong this was.

But, she told herself, being fed by the Prince of the Fire Nation was progress. All part of the mission, she emphasized with a girding breath. Her teeth scraped at the fruit as she bit it in half and let her lips gentle his fingers. She heard his breath hitch and she closed her eyes as he pushed the rest of the fruit into her mouth.

Mmm. That was sweet. She opened her mouth for another, eyes closed.

* * *

_Her hand is on your knee._

_Drunk. Definitely drunk._

_But her hand. Your knee. The two are in contact. (Therefore she must like you!)_

_Because she's drunk, you idiot._

What else could it be? Zuko thought woefully as he pressed another grape into her hungry little mouth, watching her with impunity as she suckled it down. Less than a half hour ago, she'd been furious at him—they'd been furious with each other—and now she was literally eating out of the palm of his hand.

_She's playing you,_ he reminded himself firmly, and swallowed a low groan as she delicately sucked the juice off his index and opened her mouth again. He obeyed her automatically, offering her another grape, too scared to do otherwise, too enthralled to try. Her palm pressed against his kneecap, her fingers flexing in a maddening rhythm that sent ribbons of desire curling through him.

Oh, what he'd give for some kind of distraction from this. An escape. But at the same time, he never wanted this to end. Never wanted to stop having Katara close by, touching him, enjoying herself…

The carnal thoughts that had been boiling within him surged in a heated torrent. He wanted to kiss her. He would kiss her. Yes, now was the right moment, now, when she was willing and pliable and—

"Um-um," Katara swung her jaw open and shut, making baby noises. "Gwape, pwease." She giggled.

Willing, pliable and _drunk_, he reminded himself with a sigh, and the surge of lust flushed away. He'd realized it before, but now he understood what it meant: It was too easy. It just wasn't enough that she was willing. He wanted her to want him back. He wanted a mutual connection, a moment where they could look each other in the eye and know unequivocally that the other wanted the same thing. He wanted…

He wanted her to stop this game. He wanted to make her stop trying to give up the things he held dearly. His honour, his father, his home, his crown, his people…

"I should go finish my work," he declared abruptly, and dropped the grapes back into the bowl. He made to get up, but Katara practically tackled him and wrested him back down to his knees.

"But…we were having fun." She smiled earnestly, her eyes slightly glazed, her lips wet with grape juice. She smelled of sweet fruit and wine. One hand clung gently to his over robe sleeve and she seemed to be closing in, as slowly and surely as sun moved across the sky, her gaze fixed on his lips.

He grabbed both her shoulders and shoved her down, mentally screaming curses at himself once again for his selfless, self-denying ways. Damn his honour!

"Katara—" he addressed himself as much as he addressed her "—you're drunk. The wine was watered down, but I think you had too much too fast. I guess you're not used to it." Zuko watched her for a reaction.

"What? No! I'm fine, really I am." She laughed, cheeks rosy. "Don't I seem fine to you?"

_Oh, yes._ He sighed again, gobsmacked that he was actually giving up this opportunity. His libido screamed, _Just a little taste… _

"Come on, I'll take you back to your room and you can have some water and rest," he said firmly.

"But I want to be with _you,_" she whined, extricating herself from his grasp. She pouted, her lips looking far too inviting for him to keep looking at her directly.

_Spirits help me, what a test of my willpower this is… _"Later, okay? We'll…have dinner when my uncle comes home." _When you've sobered up._ "And maybe we'll go for another walk."_ And I can try again then._

Katara's face puckered and she looked more than just disappointed. She looked angry. "I mean, I want to be with you _alone._"

He blinked. "Oh."

_Oohhh,_ came the belated thought as she edged closer. Her hands skimmed up his front, and the prince nearly exploded with that wild feeling rapidly expanding in his chest, the low-lying flutter in his groin drumming into a full-throttle pulse, a seismic sensation pounding through his every part of him.

"Kiss me, Zuko," she demanded harshly, pressing closer. "I'm not drunk. I want this. And you do, too. Don't you want to?" Her cheeks were red, her lips swollen from sucking at fruit, her eyes glittering with determination.

He sat their, gawping, feeling her fingers curling into the gathered fabric of his tunic. Inside, he was angry. Furious, really. What ever happened to "I won't do it again unless you want me to?"

Well, yes he supposed he _did_ want her to, but…

He was so conflicted that he couldn't stop her from moving in. Katara's lips parted and she breathed shallowly, tremulous, as her mouth ghosted against his jawline. Zuko's scalp prickled. He turned his face to one side and squeezed his eyes shut.

"Get off of me." He shoved her hands away roughly and blindly got to his feet.

He couldn't do this. He just couldn't.

"What's wrong?" she asked plaintively, practically gasping with frustration. "I thought you liked me!"

"I DO!" he exploded, and kicked his empty goblet off the deck. It sailed between the railing posts, catching a second of freefall, then clattered noisily to the deck below, startling a few deck hands. Zuko slammed his hands over the rails, reining in his turbulent, overwrought feelings that this mere girl had managed to churn up. Never had he been so thoroughly vexed! Tested to the limits, his last nerve was about to snap.

The worst part, of course, was that this was all a plot, and elaborate hoax to free the Avatar and that idiot Water boy. He just knew she was too good to be true…

And now he'd given his last card away.

She knew now. She knew he actually _liked_ her. His face burned with the indignity of it all. This was so wrong. So very, very wrong. He needed to regain control. He had to take charge of the situation. She was his prisoner, and he'd be damned if he couldn't keep control of one little peasant girl…

The terse silence was palpable as the Firebender clung to the railing, the metal length heating beneath his palms as he refused to look at her. After an interminable period standing there, listening to the barking laughter of the distant crows, a hand lightly landed on his arm and he turned. He growled, finding himself both aroused and dismayed by Katara's searching touch.

Her eyes sparkled. They were full of sorrow, grief. Her lip trembled as the Water girl opened her mouth to say something, but Zuko cut her off before she could speak.

"The picnic's over," he spat. He grabbed her by the hand and yanked her into the tower, towing her to her room in heated silence.

No more games. This was the last straw. He should lock her in her room until they arrived back in the Fire Nation.

She was a distraction, a liability, a weakness. And he couldn't deal with her until everything else in his life was settled.

He was the one in control, not her. It was time he showed her who was boss.

* * *

Large as he was, Bai-Bai was very good at getting into tight spaces. But he didn't need to climb into the narrow chimney in order to listen to the gathering of men in that dilapidated shack at the edge of town—those burly brutes practically bellowed every word they said. All he had to do was listen to the tinny lilt coming up the thin metal vent shaft. 

"…what this is all about," one gruff voice said. "And why couldn't you have asked us to meet at the tavern?"

Bori the tavern keeper's distinct gravely voice said, "Too many Fire Nation troops. And would you all keep your voices down!"

"Really, what _is_ this about?" an oily voice purred. "I have work to do tonight, you know."

"Doing what? Picking empty pockets? Stealing fish from the smoking huts?" The men laughed a little bitterly and Bori went on. "You all know the pickings are slim around here. But I've just received some information that could make us all rich men."

"Spit it out already," a new voice said evenly.

There was a dramatic pause. "What do you know about the bounty on the Avatar?"

Bai-Bai heard the men lean in. They were rapt as Bori told the tale of Witch's visit the previous evening, and what she'd discovered about the Fire Nation vessel moored in a cove in her territory.

"She's lying," the oily voice spat. "That old hag is trying to lure us into the woods, make us into her slaves…"

"…Or cook us in a stew," another voice chimed in.

"…Or turn us into possum-chickens!" cried a third.

"…And then cook us in stew!" a fourth added, quailing.

Bai-Bai grinned in his Corvidae way, chuckling softly as some of the meanest and most ruthless thugs fearfully sang a chorus of suggested tortures the Witch of the Woods could inflict upon them if she caught them on her forbidden land. He'd have to pat his other self on the back for that: the Keeper of Dreams and Memories had planted a lot of nightmares in people's head in order to keep them out of his sanctuary. Of course, Witch was remarkably frightening on her own—it hadn't taken a lot of embellishing to instil fear in the hearts of these stalwart men.

Bori shouted them down. "She's endorsed this endeavour!" he said over their heads. "Now, I'd be the last person to trust her, but her sincerity rang true with me. And you all know how much she hates the Fire Nation."

"I hear rumours she's collaborating with them," one man muttered, "as a spy."

Other voices murmured their confirmation.

"Regardless," the tavern owner said, "what we have here is an opportunity. We could make enough money from this one job to see us through to the end of our days. Enough gold is being offered that, why, ten, maybe twenty of us could see early retirement. At least get us out of this hellhole, anyhow."

The floorboards creaked underfoot as the men made thoughtful noises. A deep, resonant voice broke over the others. The voice Bai-Bai was hoping to hear.

"And why, exactly, do you think you're deserving of a share of this bounty, eh, Bori?" the man said, his tone mocking but careful. "You serve drinks and rotgut. You're no criminal, and you're certainly not one of us." A thoughtful pause ensued, and then the voice continued in a sing-song lilt. "For all we know, you could gather a bunch of us bounty hunters together and have the Fire Nation round us up. How much would that fetch you, eh?"

The silence was palpable. Bori laughed a little, nervously. "Really, Manua, if I didn't tell you about the exiled prince's ship and the Avatar being aboard—"

What Bai-Bai heard next made him shiver with delight. A throwing dagger rent the air with a whispered swooping sound, like a shiny, deadly gymnastic tumbler that seemed, in the crow's mind's eye, to languorously cartwheel through the small space before burying itself to the hilt into the tavern keeper's neck.

Bori clutched, scrabbled, gurgled and expired.

The rest of the men made no movement or sound of protest. Manua's deep, deadly rumble broke the silence.

"This piece of information will not be repeated. It goes no farther than these walls," he declared. "There are twenty of us here. I know you all by name and face. You all know me by reputation." No one belied that statement. "If we all work together, we can be rich men, but only if we do this my way. Any objections?"

There were no objections.

The deep-voiced bounty hunter moved to the center of the room. "Take _that_ out," he directed. "Dump it in into the woods for the Witch and her birds."

The scuffle of feet told Bai-Bai that the men were doing as they were told by the one he and Witch also knew by reputation.

Manua the bounty hunter. The Thinker, they called him. He was a ruthless predator, a mastermind, a genius at subterfuge and he always collected his bounty. Some said he was a rogue Fire Nation soldier, a rumour that could account for his understanding of Fire Navy protocol. Most people just accepted that he was smart. If anyone could infiltrate Prince Zuko's ship and get the Avatar out, he would.

Bai-Bai grinned. Even though Katara's half of the plan wasn't working out right, this half was. In a few short days, Manua and his men would "rescue" the Avatar, and then…

Well, then it would be up him to save the Avatar. Unfortunately, it would still be up to Katara to save herself.

As the door to the shack opened and the men came out, hefting the tavern owner's body wrapped in canvas upon their broad shoulders, Bai-Bai took off to report to Witch.

And to tell his brethren that dinner would soon be served.


	21. Chapter 21

* * *

**Chapter Twenty-One**

* * *

Katara stumbled into her room, still feeling the hot imprint of Zuko's hand on her back. The heavy door slammed shut and she whirled around as if to glare through the walls at the retreating prince, dazed and angry and wholly confused. A slight headache began hammering at her temples. 

"Boys are crazy!" she yelled into the empty space, and she angrily pulled her wild mane back out of her face.

Glancing around, she noticed someone had been in to make her bed, take her bathing things away and straighten up. Her Kyoshian outfit and her blue robes had been cleaned and pressed and lay neatly folded on top of her dresser.

She should have been grateful, but she frowned. Sokka and Aang weren't getting this kind of treatment. They weren't having picnics or sleeping in comfy cots or having their clothes laundered. They were lounging in the brig, probably cold, dirty and hungry…

It hit her then: her plan wasn't working. There just wasn't enough time to make Zuko fall in love with her and then break his heart. She had less than two days, and she'd already managed to mess things up. What had she been thinking? Any minute now, General Iroh would return with the spare boiler parts. They'd fix the ship and she would be on her merry way to the Fire Nation as Zuko's permanent guest.

This was the end, wasn't it? Aang and Sokka and she were going to the Fire Nation. They were going to lose the war. Their mission had failed.

But despair had yet to take a hold of her. Instead, she seethed, railing at the world, at Fate, at Zuko.

"Dammit!" she swore, kicking the cot and yelping in pain when her foot remembered it was bolted to the floor. After a minute of hopping around, the Waterbender grabbed the hairbrush and yanked it through her wind-tousled tresses, then began roughly braiding her hair. In the mirror, Karanna appeared, looking expectant. This time, Katara wasn't surprised.

"Boys are idiots," she growled, tying her hair into a bun. "I had him! I had him in my lap and he wouldn't kiss me! Even when I asked him to!"

Karanna shrugged._ He's complicated. Not all teenage boys have the one thing on their minds. And you seem to forget that Zuko is a prince. He'll have had better breeding. He wouldn't take advantage of you while you're drunk._

"I'm not drunk! I just acted that way so I'd look a little more…" she gestured searchingly, flustered. "…you know." Heat flushed through her.

_Easy?_ Karanna rolled her eyes and made a _pfft_ sound. _You know, __Katara…just because he kisses you, it doesn't mean he loves you._

"I know that very well." Katara finished fixing her hair, scowling severely.

_Do you?_

"I'm young, but I'm not stupid." She could feel hot tears burning her eyes, and she dashed them away, feeling utterly foolish. She hastily shucked the pink robe and tossed it to the ground, unwilling to play "nice girl" anymore, then slipped into the comfortable, familiar clothes of her people.

Karanna's eyebrows lifted sardonically. _Why are you even trying so hard? You've been putting up this front, pretending to be something you're not, and you know that's not why he likes you._

The Waterbender worried her lower lip, steering the Avataress away from that topic. "I still need to free Aang and Sokka, and I don't know how I'm even going to get down to the brig to see them."

Undeterred, Karanna pressed on. _Katara, why are you hiding yourself away from him? Why the ruse? He likes you. I daresay, he may even love you, but you're pushing him away with this silly act. _

"You were the one who suggested the hair!" Katara exclaimed, in a vain attempt to sidetrack the Avataress. She didn't want to deal with this. Not right now.

_But I didn't tell you to put on all those girlish airs. Cute as they are, they're not what Zuko wants from you. _Karanna held her hands up imploringly, her eyes shining. _Why do you feel you have to be someone else to make him love you? Why do you feel you have to be someone else to break his heart?_

Katara turned her back on the mirror, though she knew she could not hide the truth from her spirit cohabitant. She didn't want to face herself, didn't want to acknowledge what her heart had been crying for. After all, what was she supposed to tell the lady Avatar? That she couldn't bear to be the girl Zuko loved? That her flirtatious façade was the only armour she had against the blow she would strike upon the unsuspecting prince and, inevitably, herself?

It all came down to a simple fact: Despite everything he'd done to her brother and her friends, and everything he'd done _to_ her and _for_ her, Katara did _not_ want to break Zuko's heart.

He was just a boy. She had come to that conclusion a long time ago. She could not do what Karanna had asked of her. And she didn't know how else to free the trapped spirit.

But she still had to save Aang. That conviction was stronger than any other she had, and she knew now that that had to be her only focus.

"I need to figure out where the brig is. I need to know if my brother's okay…" Katara said to herself, trying desperately to formulate a plan. But she didn't have enough information about this ship to form any cohesive strategy, and Zuko's tour had been woefully inadequate. "I need intel. I need a map, or blueprints, _something…_"

Suddenly, Katara remembered a room the prince had shown her in passing….

_Katara, listen to me. You have to stop lying to yourself, stop pretending. You have to listen to your heart. You can't cheat Zuko with false love, and you shouldn't cheat yourself. I need you to focus…_ Karanna said with increasing alarm as she sensed the girl's attention wandering, the wheels of her mind turning as she formed a brand-new plan.

"No time." A renewed sense of purpose gripped Katara as she strode across the small space and opened the door, poking her head out.

The guards turned and looked down at her.

"Hi!" she said with her most disarming smile. "Do you think you could take me to the ship's library?"

* * *

Appa lowed mournfully. The sun had risen and set twice now and was on its way to setting for a third time since Aang had left him in this cave. 

Where was he? His little Airbending buddy said he'd be back, only…

He sighed and closed his eyes, using all his senses to seek out the happy little boy. His scent had gone cold days ago, and he could not distinguish his laughter from the caws of the black birds all around him. He sifted through the smells on the wind for his other passengers and sometime feeders/keepers: the Water boy, the female, and Momo, his Air brethren.

Nothing. No sign of any of them anywhere. But something…some_one_ was coming up the path. Appa lumbered to his feet, wary. By the shuffle of the footfalls, it was not someone who seemed like much of a threat, but the stench of bird and humanity clung hard to this intruder.

"You'd think she'd hide him somewhere a little easier to find—" the distant, harsh voice grated on Appa's nerves "—or that a ten-tonne flying shag rug would be easier to spot…"

The "shag rug" snorted and growled a warning loudly to the approaching figure. It stopped, hesitating.

_Peace, friend,_ a different raspy voice called. Appa blinked. Someone was speaking the language of the wind to him, the language of his kind, the dwellers of the sky…

_Peace be with you. We are allies, and mean no deception._

He hadn't heard his language from someone other than Momo for so long. So long…

And then it came into view. A woman—Appa was certain it was a woman, anyhow—hiked steadily up the rocky path, a huge black crow perched deftly on her shoulder. But the sky bison could see and smell that he was no ordinary bird. For one, the Avatar's Spirit guide had never conversed with birds before—they were flighty, literally, and couldn't hold a decent conversation if their lives depended on it. Usually, they just bleated random words, mostly to do with food or danger.

But this bird…this crow was something else. _Otherworldly…_

_You are correct,_ the bird cawed in affirmation. _We are brethren. Kindred spirits. Guides for the seekers and questers of the world._

Appa's thoughts immediately drifted to his friend, his soul mate, his sole reason for being, and he grunted a question.

"Easy there, Bison. The Avatar is, unfortunately, incapacitated." The woman drew up to him, unafraid. Appa backed away, her stench overwhelming his senses. He coughed out a sound of panic.

_The Fire Prince. He has captured him,_ the crow confirmed sombrely.

His hackles bristled and Appa roared, making the air shudder. His vision clouded with the red haze of wrath. That Fire boy! That stinky little Fire boy! He would stomp him! He would stomp him good!

So enraged and ready to leap into action was he that he barely heard the crow shouting in his breathy tongue at him.

_Peace, Appa! We are here to help! The Water girl, Katara, has sent us to seek you out, but we must follow her plan or else we will lose them all!_

Appa calmed, his five stomachs churning with dread and fury. He growled, unsure if this uncanny pair was to be trusted.

As if reading his thoughts, the hag drew something from her tattered clothing. "A token of trust," Witch offered, and she laid Katara's pack out on the ground.

Appa sniffed it and caught a whiff of panic sweat, sea water, bird droppings, and food, all beneath the flowery female scent of the girl. Yes, this was the Water girl's bag, and he could sense it was intact and unspoiled.

There was something else, though. Something he had only ever associated with his Airbending buddy. A distinct signature only the truly spiritual left. It was a trace of softly glowing power, like that Aang sometimes trailed around; a lambent, nebulous pulse, like a wisp of pearly light clinging to the pack the way the weird fog clung to this cold, grey land. He tilted his head to one side, confused. Somehow, something was different. How had he not noticed this before? Could it be the girl…?

"She, too, is on the ship," the woman said with a bitter snort. "Crazy, I told her. But she's there now, working her way into the dragon-lion's den. The fool."

Appa barked with alarm.

_We need your help, Appa. Katara is in great jeopardy, but she has a plan and she needs you. But if you want to help her and save the Avatar, you have to listen to us. We can't go charging to the rescue right now. You have to trust us. _

Appa stared another long moment. What choice did he have? He grumbled in acquiescence and lowered himself onto his haunches, perking his ears up to listen to their plan.

* * *

Ching arrived with the evening meal, and Sokka looked up as he passed the bowls through the bars. 

"I have some news for you," he said a little grimly after a moment of hesitation. "Your sister is aboard."

Sokka's heart dropped into his stomach. "What?"

"She arrived a day ago. Prince Zuko is keeping her in a separate cabin. She's being treated well, don't worry."

Sokka's appetite was suddenly gone.

Katara. His little sister, whom he had sworn to protect. Katara had _let_ herself get captured. _Damn you, why didn't you understand my instructions! You promised to keep away from Zuko…_

But no. He hadn't made her promise that. He hadn't told her his suspicions about Zuko, and the Water boy realized too late that that had been a mistake. He'd been trying to protect her from a predator, to protect her from the awful truth, but by keeping that information from her, he'd allowed her to walk right into Zuko's clutches.

What would the prince do with her? His gut fisted with fear, his lurid imaginings running away with him. Dark anger began welling up inside, a mere draught of the dark pool of hatred in his soul. Anger at his sister, anger at Zuko, anger at the whole world for throwing the people he loved into the midst of this stupid war. He suddenly punched the wall and cried out.

"Hey, take it easy," Ching said, startled by the prisoner's outburst. Calmly, he went on, "Look…I know what you're thinking. A girl on a ship of men…it doesn't bode well. But I tell you, the men on this ship, they wouldn't do anything to harm her. Things are going to turn out okay."

"How can you say that?" Sokka yelled, barely feeling the tears stinging the corners of his eyes. "My little sister has been captured by the Fire Nation, I'm stuck in a jail cell, and my best friend hasn't woken up for nearly three days!"

The guard didn't answer. Juno was watching the interaction stonily from the other end of the brig's short corridor, his faceplate back in place. Good, Sokka thought. After the conversation they'd had earlier, Sokka didn't want to have to see these men as anything but Fire Nation soldiers, the enemy, the men who had killed his mother, the men who had destroyed the Air Nation, leaving Aang the last of his kind….

"Eat up, Sokka. Your dinner's getting cold," Ching commanded sternly from behind his mask. He sounded like a father disciplining his adolescent son, and that tone alone made the young warrior turn to face him, the ache of failure, disappointment and betrayal raw within him.

His hateful gaze moved from the guard to his dinner. With deliberate slowness, he picked up the bowl of rice and fish and greens and placed it outside of the bars. Then he purposefully turned his back to the guards, sat cross-legged and stared at the wall, refusing to say another word. Within, he smoothed his anger over, condensing it into a solid little ball of hate that sat heavily in his stomach, burning.

He heard a sigh behind him. "All right, then. I just thought…you'd want to know." Ching settled back to his post, but didn't take the food away.

Under his breath, Sokka heard him say, "Not knowing is a lot harder."

Juno nodded his agreement.

* * *

Hong Fui was a humble porter and man-of-all-trades who enjoyed working on Prince Zuko's ship. Even though his station was relatively unimportant and his wages meagre, anything was better than serving on the front lines. 

But if there was one thing he and every other member of the crew knew, it was that the teenage prince was a demanding commander and not to be denied or kept waiting. After all, this was Crown Prince Zuko, son of Ozai, and he was owed nothing less than a "At once, Your Highness" or "By your command, Your Highness."

Unfortunately for him, it seemed the prince's female captive-cum-companion didn't think as much of him…rightly or wrongly.

"_Please,_ Prince Zuko will be awaiting your arrival for dinner," he implored nervously a fifth time. The Water Tribe girl was seated at the library's sole table, poring over a scroll. Stacks of books and scrolls pulled from the carefully catalogued shelves surrounded her, walling her in with teetering towers of tombs. Every now and then, she'd dip the bamboo reed quill she clutched into the ink pot and scribble notes on a large piece of parchment, not bothering to sift sand over the wet ink and smearing swaths of black across the page in places.

"Mmm," was her only reply. He groaned inwardly.

"She's been like that since just after lunch," the soldier who had been keeping watch over her in the library told him. "Non-stop. Like a machine."

Hong Fui frowned. He could see the guard was silently laughing at him, and the porter refused to be put off by a simple little teenage girl, if only to uphold the dignity of the Swabbers.

Since day one of their exile, the ship's regular crew and staff of servants, who called themselves the Swabbers, and the full-time soldiers who defended the prince—the Fists—had been engaged in a friendly rivalry that kept everyone amused during those interminable days on the sea hunting the Avatar. When things got really dull, a quiet prank war often ensued, with the Fists greasing up the servants' stairs, and the Swabbers defecating in the Firebenders' boots.

Of course, Lieutenant Jee did not endorse the petty rivalry. A career military man through and through, the severe Jee insisted that the men of Zuko's ship work together and treat each other with respect as a real company should, and he officially reprimanded anyone he caught causing mischief or discord.

But the Dragon of the West knew better: he understood that the men were just restless and needed to have a little fun among themselves. As long as things didn't get out of hand and no one was put in any real danger, then he would allow a little leniency. Anyone he had to punish was swiftly consigned to Music Night duty…playing the triangle, or worse yet, the egg.

In any case, it was a point of pride and dignity that Hong Fui succeed in moving the Water Tribe girl without the use of any force. He was a porter and that was what porters did. They used finesse and brain power to move things, not brute strength the way the Fists' soldiers did. He would _not_ ask the guard for help with this prickly bookworm and would prove that the Swabbers knew how to do their jobs.

More firmly, he said to the girl, "His Royal Highness really, _really_ doesn't like to be kept waiting."

She said nothing to that. Then he said, "I might add that you are his guest _and_ prisoner," and waited for a reply, hoping the implicit threat would be enough to rouse her from her studies.

His relief was premature as the Waterbender roughly set the scroll aside, and then snatched up one of the books from the middle of a pile, toppling the stack all over the ground as she blithely flipped through the volume's pages. Hong Fui screeched in dismay.

"Miss, please, be careful with these! They are rare first editions from the prince's private collection!" He gathered them up off the floors, inspecting their gilt edges for damage.

The soldier hid a grin and turned his face away as he tried to school his features. This was going to be the talk of the mess hall tonight.

Peevishly, the porter addressed the girl as he would scold a misbehaving child. "I really must insist now, young lady. If Prince Zuko and General Iroh are kept waiting any longer—"

"Finished!" she declared, her eyes shining with triumph. "I have what I need," she said to no one in particular, and let out a satisfied sigh as she rolled her stiff neck and shoulders.

Hong Fui blinked. He cleared his throat. "Uh, well then. That's much better. Now, let's have you cleaned up. His highness will be waiting."

Gathering up the semi-dry parchment and grabbing one of the books off the table, she briskly followed him out. Both the guard and the porter thought it strange that she was suddenly so eager to meet up with their surly prince.

* * *

Iroh returned just before sunset with news that the caravan ferrying the shipment of parts had been delayed a day or more because a cart had got stuck in the mud on the way over. Zuko swore long and loud, his mood dark when he sat down for dinner. 

He'd spent the hours after lunch in total distraction, unable to sit still and look over Jee's many reports, his mind too cluttered to manage even ten minutes of meditation. He couldn't believe he'd let Katara under his skin again. He couldn't believe he hadn't simply gone with his instincts and purged himself of these ridiculous feelings by taking her, using her, and being done with it. He should have, and twice, he caught himself heading toward her room, whereupon he pivoted on his heel and walked back the way he came. It would solve nothing, he knew, to confront the girl. Not now.

Eventually, he confined himself to his quarters, too restless to even commit himself to training. He wouldn't have had the focus, anyhow. He simply lay on his bed and watched Momo tentatively explore his room, preen, eat, and eventually, sleep, curled up at the foot of his bed.

How simple life as a lemur must be, he thought morosely, wishing he was anyone but himself at that moment.

Dinner was announced and he headed to the dining room to meet with his uncle, still itching with unspent energy. Without thinking, he commanded a servant to bring Katara from her room to eat dinner with him.

As the steaming dishes of rice and fish and vegetables were set down, the young Firebender irritably drummed his fingers on the table, waiting, refusing to touch his food until the Water girl arrived. The old general didn't need to ask what was bothering him.

"Where is she?" Zuko shouted finally. "I sent a servant to fetch her for dinner fifteen minutes ago!"

Iroh asked warily, "Did you have a nice day together?"

His cheeks heated. "It was fine. Just _fine_." He looked away.

"Ah." Iroh sipped his tea. "Fine, you say? I guess it must have been…seeing as you haven't decided to confine her to her quarters for supper."

"She eats with me if I say she does," Zuko barked, slamming an open palm on the table. "That little peasant girl will not get the better of me!"

"I can see that." Iroh's mouth pursed.

A minute later, Katara arrived, wearing her familiar blue outfit, her wild mane tamed and braided, her signature hair loops swinging with impunity. Zuko had to blink a moment to ensure this was in fact the Katara he had captured—the one who had been provocatively feeding him grapes earlier that day. She met his stare with a level gaze, her eyes bright and sharp.

"Where have you been?" Zuko demanded. "We've been waiting for you while the food gets cold." He sounded like an irate mother.

"In the library," she replied simply, then addressed the prince's uncle cordially. "Good evening, General Iroh. I hope you had a pleasant trip?"

"I did, thank you." He smiled at her and told her the news about the spare boiler parts while his nephew glared daggers at him for his treachery.

"What were you doing in the library?" Zuko asked, irritated that her attentions were on his uncle. "I told you to stay in your room!"

Katara sniffed. "You said no such thing. During the tour, you said I was welcome to visit the library with the guard's supervision at any time—that I was welcome to read 'if indeed I had learned to.' I believe those were your exact words." She arched a querulous eyebrow at him.

Iroh ignored the heat building around his seething nephew. "Did you find anything interesting, dear? I'm afraid most of those texts are Zuko's, and all that military history can be dreadfully boring." Iroh chuckled. "Me, I like a good adventure tale. Or poetry, even. In fact, I believe I have a book of haiku in my quarters that I'd be happy to lend you. There are some beautiful love poems in it." And he began to recite a piece:

_Jasmine blooms nightly_

'_Neath stars and moon on velvet_

_For lovers only._

Ignoring his suggestive words, Katara fixed her eye on the prince. "Thank you, Iroh, but that won't be necessary. I did, however, find something of _great_ interest." She brandished a small, tattered book, the hemp cover's inscription written in black ink.

Zuko felt his eyes widen. How had she managed to pick _this_ book out of the dozens available? It was nothing more than a manual…

"The Code of Agni Kai," the old general said lowly, and he swallowed a nervous lump. "Not exactly before-bedtime reading…"

Katara's eyes sparkled with triumph and iron-willed determination, and she locked gazes with Prince Zuko, lifting her chin.

Dread fisted in his gut. He knew at that moment what she intended.

"Zuko, I challenge you to Agni Kai."


	22. Chapter 22

**Welcome to Part Four of _The Game. _Thanks for sticking around and for all your lovely reviews! Without you, I would not have the will or confidence to continue writing, so kudos!  
**

* * *

**PART FOUR**

* * *

"Agni Kai—the fire duel—is one the Fire Nation's most sacred customs. It is the ultimate tool for gaining that which is most precious in this country: honour. 

"Centuries of collected rules and regulations, including blow-by-blow accounts of some historic battles, were once compiled in a great book of records, but the unwieldy tome was deemed too large for any person—noble, peasant, or otherwise—to own a copy. During the reign of Zolan, the Fire Lord commanded that the Agni Kai book be revised and edited down to its most basic components so that every citizen could own a copy.

"The result was the_ Code of Agni Kai,_ a 96-page book of rules and instructions for conducting a Fire duel. The manual is revised every twenty-five years by a committee of nobles appointed by the Fire Lord himself. Detailed records on historic matches are still available, but are widely dispersed through various writings.

"The Code managed to achieve what the Fire Lord had hoped it would, though the results were somewhat tragic. The populace gained a more comprehensive understanding of this tradition, and subsequently, recorded Agni Kai challenges went up a whopping eighty percent. Meanwhile, the Fire Nation's burgeoning population, which was quickly eating up the land's limited natural resources, decreased with fatalities directly related to the duels, though only by a marginal eighteen percent, according to census data from the first fifteen years after the Code was distributed. The number of maimings and severe injuries incurred as a result of Agni Kais fought has never been tabulated, but they are rumoured by physicians to number in the millions.

"Despite these figures, the people of the Fire Nation are not all as bloodthirsty and passionate as many make them out to be. Certainly, the propensity for violence lurks in all of us, no matter which nation we hail from, and the very essence of Firebending requires a somewhat hot-blooded nature. But from my many interviews with numerous citizens, most of the time, those who find themselves engaged in an Agni Kai challenge are disinclined to fatally wound their opponent in order to end the duel.

"This viewpoint appears to be more prevalent among the lower classes—which is a very interesting phenomenon, considering the deplorable state of crime among the lower classes in urban cities such as Ba Sing Se, where the ability to commit an act of violence can be the difference between whether you eat that week or not (for more reading, see _"Crime and Criminality Among the Denizens of the Lower Ring"_).

"But among the noble upper-class, where honour is the equivalent of prestige and power and affluence—attributes that draw the Fire Lord's critical eye and fickle favour—Agni Kai is the ultimate means to an end. _Any_ end. Respect, wealth, authority, even _love_…in the nobleman's eye, _anything_ can be won in Agni Kai, so _everything_ is wagered on it…."

Excerpt from _"To Fight with Honour: The Tradition of Agni Kai", _(unpublished) by Professor Emeritus Zei, Ba Sing Se University.

* * *

**Chapter Twenty-Two**

* * *

It took a heartbeat for Zuko to regain his senses. He drew himself up in his seat and scoffed. "Stupid girl. You can't challenge me to Agni Kai. It's a _fire_ duel, and you're a _Water_bender." He kept his tone wooden, refusing to rise to the bait. After this, he decided, he wouldn't allow her anywhere on the ship unless he was with her personally. 

Her expression was closed as Katara removed a sheaf of notes from the inner folds of her robe. The feminine, florid script was smudged, the ink still a little damp in places, and obviously penned in haste, some of the characters clumsily formed. She began reading aloud. "In Hokai versus Pruda in the thirty-fourth year of Sozin, an Earthbender was permitted to fight for his honour in Agni Kai." She looked up archly. "According to your laws, the precedence holds."

"She's right, nephew," Iroh affirmed sagely, a little wide-eyed. "Strictly speaking, Agni Kai is between two benders, whether they are Firebenders or not." He cut Katara an unhappy look. "You've been busy while I've been away."

She nodded respectfully to the old man then turned her attention to Zuko once more. "As the challenger, these are my terms: If I win, you will release Sokka and Aang and let us depart from the ship freely and without harm." She tilted her chin up. "If you win…I will remain on the ship to do your bidding as your slave."

Zuko snorted derisively. "You don't stand a chance against me, _little girl_," he sneered. "You don't even have a master. How could you possibly hope to defeat me?"

Katara said nothing in response, but ploughed on. "As the challenger, I dictate the time and location." She paused shortly to see if he'd protest, then lifted her chin even higher. "The deck of your ship in this cove, at the next rainfall."

"What?" Zuko surged to his feet. "We don't even know when it's going to start raining next! And by those terms…"

"We'll be stuck here until you can carry out the Agni Kai," Iroh mused. His thoughtful and slightly troubled tone made Katara smile crookedly. Her speed reading and quick study had really paid off in that library. "Well played, my dear," he said a little sardonically, though the lines in his face deepened.

Zuko fumed. "You're still my prisoner and this is _my _ship. I don't have to accept any of those terms. I can lock you up in the brig and throw away the key!"

Having anticipated this threat, Katara coldly glanced down at her notes again. "In Gherad versus Tsing in the fourteenth year of Azulon, Tsing was challenged by a political prisoner, and it was determined that Gherad was entitled to the full rights of a citizen of the Fire Nation under Agni Kai sequestration, though he had been stripped of all else. He was released from jail and was held under house arrest for the duration preceding the fight." She looked at him archly once more and repeated, "The precedence holds."

"I think I actually remember that one…" Iroh tugged at his beard thoughtfully. "Gherad won that one spectacularly."

"Enough!" Zuko snapped. "This was all for nothing, peasant. You can't challenge me to Agni Kai. I won't accept."

"Then you forfeit the match. Now, release Aang and Sokka and let us go," Katara responded simply, her tone deadly quiet, her eyes glittering with defiance.

Iroh fixed his nephew with a stern look. "Zuko, she is right. If you deny the validity of her challenge and the terms of the challenge, you deny hundreds of years of history, tradition and—" his lips twisted on the word "_—precedence._ You will dishonour the meaning of Agni Kai and you will lose face in front of the crew."

The prince clenched his fists, growling, and threw a dagger look at Katara. Why was his uncle taking _her_ side? Didn't he see what she was doing? And what did he care what his crew thought? She was just setting up a gauntlet for him to run…for him to wear himself out on. She thought she could make him feel sorry for her, make him go soft on her…

It was another one of her stupid games—stupider, even, than getting drunk and trying to get him to molest her. The manipulative little tart!

"You think you're so smart?" he hissed, eyes narrowing to slits. "Well, don't cry to me when this is all over and you're in the infirmary. I _won't_ go easy on you."

"Do you accept the challenge or not?" she asked impatiently.

Zuko stood to tower over her, standing chest to chest, radiating deadly heat. He leaned in, their noses nearly bumping, but the Water girl did not back away. He smirked cruelly, eyes raking over her face, resting on those thinly pinched lips that he wanted to bite off. A tiny spark of fear lit behind her bravado and he snorted in triumph.

"_I accept,_" he said lowly. He reached out and pinched her chin roughly, holding her face even closer. She inhaled sharply as his hot breath poured over her. "Come the next rainfall, _you're mine._"

He shoved away from her and turned his back in dismissal.

Katara recomposed herself quickly and nodded stiffly before turning to a distraught-looking Iroh. "As dictated by the laws of Agni Kai sequestration…"

"Don't quote that thing to me, young lady," Iroh huffed irately. "I was on a committee to revise those rules back when you were just a twinkle in your father's eye." He got to his feet. "I'll put you in a north-facing room, just like it says in the book, with a window and everything, and have your meals brought to you." He began to escort her out, sighing and grumbling about his missed dinner. "But mind you, you were the one to issue the challenge. If we're going to obey the rules word for word, you have to, as well. The penalty for non-compliance is death."

She didn't even blink at that. It seemed she knew what she was getting into. "Thank you, General Iroh. You are a most honourable man," Katara intoned formally, without feeling.

Iroh grunted, rolling his eyes and gesturing emptily at the heavens as if asking, _Why, gods, why do teenagers have to be so melodramatic about everything?_

* * *

Prince Zuko's room was off-limits to everyone but General Iroh and the Prince himself. But there was one other who had access to Zuko's chambers. 

His name was Guo. He was a menial labourer the esteemed Dragon of the West had hired back when he'd been hastily putting together a crew for the exiled Prince's "Ship of Fools." Guo was gimpy, a club foot and crooked back making him unsuitable for military duty, much less normal living in the callous and prejudiced Fire Nation capital.

Despite his deformities, however, Guo had been a very successful pickpocket and had nearly made off with a certain retired general's money pouch, one fateful day more than two years ago, before the old man had caught up with him, cornering him in an alleyway.

"You're very fast," Iroh had noted, an impish glint in his eye, "and stealthy. I barely noticed you brush past." He held out a hand for the bag, and Guo had handed it to him grudgingly, warily, a bolt of dread almost straightening his curlicue spine. Iroh hefted the bag of coins, regarded it a moment, then tossed it back to the young man with a smile. Guo deftly caught the money pouch and stared.

"I could use someone like you on our ship," Iroh said genially. "I need someone who can get around unnoticed. You see, my nephew Prince Zuko is…going through a difficult time, and I don't think the usual servants will be good enough to avoid his…er, moods. I need someone to sneak in and out of his room quickly, without his notice. It's not a glamorous job…"

But Guo had jumped on it. Doing something and getting paid for it… and on the crown prince's ship, no less! It was a dream come true for the malformed young man, barely in his twenties.

Okay, so the job wasn't an exciting one. But he had the distinct honour of picking up after the teen prince, a duty no one else in the world could claim. And this, above all else, fuelled his pride, and gave him a sense of self-worth he'd never had before.

He was good at his job. Prince Zuko never ever saw him, the only evidence of his existence in the young scarred exile's life being a room where the floors were spotless, the laundry done, and the bed made. He needed no praise or recognition: as long as Zuko didn't ask why there was still garbage in his wastebasket, or why his meditating table was dusty, he knew he was doing his duty.

Unfortunately, his work had become more difficult of late.

"Stop it! Stop it and get down from there!" Guo screamed. The winged lemur clinging to the top of the Fire Nation standard on the far wall screeched at the servant, his grubby little fingers digging deeper into the fine silk of the flag.

"Ahh! Don't do that! You'll stain it!" Guo grabbed his slipper off his foot and flung it at the flying creature. The canvas shoe smacked the wall, leaving a dusty footprint a few inches from the ceiling, and the flying lemur leaped into the air, spiralling around the room in tight circles, shrieking and chattering viciously. "How did you get in here? You little beast!"

Guo began to panic, hopping around on one foot. Zuko would be back from his evening meal any moment now. He had to get that thing out of here and clean up and disappear, or else…who knows what?

In an act of desperation, he wrenched the heavy door open and began shooing the winged creature toward the exit. The monkey-thing screeched and made a beeline for freedom, ducking out into the night with a little chirrup of triumph.

The hobbling servant watched the creature flap away and let out a sigh of relief. It didn't occur to him, a common servant, that the flying lemur was both a prisoner and a VIP—that it was at all important to the prince, in fact. It was just vermin that had found its way into the Firebender's once-pristine quarters…wasn't it?

Guo didn't think on it further as he turned to quickly complete his chores.

* * *

_Stupid! Stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid…_

As soon as Uncle Iroh had escorted the girl out, Zuko started pacing the dining room, his appetite gone. How could he have let the girl wrangle him into this? All this time, he knew…_he just knew _she was planning something, something to spring her companions, and he had still given her enough room to wiggle through and carry out her plot!

What on earth was wrong with him? He had known something like this was imminent. She hadn't been all coy and sweet and so damn seductive because she actually _liked_ him that way!

He stopped. His heart turned to stone and the northern winter seemed to grip him. She _didn't_ like him. That was it all along. Katara didn't care a whit about him, didn't think him special or worthy of her affection, her attention. All this time, he'd been so desperate to believe that he had a chance…

Before he even realized it, his feet were carrying him down the hall and down the stairs, two steps at a time. Soldiers on patrol dodged out of his way, and those who did not were unceremoniously shoved aside by the churlish teen. The Fire prince burst through the last door, emerging onto the open deck, heaving, panting, staring at the cold, dark sky, and he opened his mouth to scream—

But didn't. The fight was out of him. The anger, the wrath…it wouldn't come and his _feelings_ were tearing him up inside.

If only he could let it out, in one, long continuous stream of molten rage, he'd feel better. But there was no fire. He was cold. Glacial. His blood thickened and he felt himself slowing, freezing…

He pressed his palm against his breast, feeling as though a hole was boring into his heart, then tore his hand hastily away, clenching it into a fist, refusing to acknowledge this maudlin sentiment.

Katara. This was all her fault. Ever since they'd met, back when he'd first arrived at the South Pole, somehow, deep down, he'd known when she'd pinned him with those fearful, dazzling, accusing eyes, that she would be his downfall. It was why he had singled the elderly woman clinging to her out, to demonstrate his power, his ability to hurt her, to hurt anyone she might have cared about. And how had she responded? Not with tears or screaming or fearful respect, but with a scowl, insolent, defiant and disdainful.

He should have known it then, should have destroyed her and her whole damned village. Any friend of the Avatar was his enemy. Period. How could he even think she felt any affection for him…?

But _he_ didn't have any affection for _her_. No—he felt lust, desire, some surface feeling that wasn't real. Something that was not genuine or deep or soul-changing. She had made him like this, manipulated him, used her feminine powers to bend him to her will. She had made him believe in love, and that was the worst crime she'd committed against him.

The women in his life had never been anything but deceptive—his absentee mother, his deranged sister, the scheming noblewomen who paraded their young daughters before him…why would Katara be any different?

But she _was_ different…

_No!_ he angrily corrected. He was the crown prince of the Fire Nation, the Prince of the Firebenders, heir to the throne, and she was a peasant from a dying, obscure Water Tribe village! She was _his_ prisoner! He held all the cards here! He had her brother, the Avatar, even that stupid lemur. They would not escape him now. They just wouldn't.

He wouldn't allow her to leave him. Even if the Avatar got away, Zuko would make her pay. He would hold on to her with an iron grip and show her who had the power here, who was the clever one…

No, all was not lost. She had challenged him to Agni Kai, and she would _not_ win. She had nothing. No skills, no master bender to teach her. Her bending abilities were sub-par at best, and her hand-to-hand was probably non-existent, if her brother's show of force was anything to go by. Zuko could beat her with one hand tied behind his back.

Katara was going to lose this fight. And he wouldn't go easy on her. He'd make sure she was sent to the infirmary for a good long time. Time enough to think over her spiteful, impudent behaviour. Time enough to lie there, feeling her humanity as her flesh oozed and scabbed and tried desperately to mend itself while she collected the shattered pieces of her ego and soul. Yes, he would deliver her this lesson and teach her some respect—

He slammed a fist into a nearby crate and a frightening howl erupted from his mouth. Undiluted rage laced with despair surged out of him, and he started hyperventilating. Spots appeared in his vision, and he stumbled into the shadows where the patrolling soldiers wouldn't see him in his moment of weakness. He fell back and sat down hard, clutching his aching chest as he swallowed great lungfuls of air. Why? _Why, why, why, why, why was this happening to him?_

He pressed himself to calm down, hearing his uncle's soothing voice in his head droning meditative mantras and pearls of wisdom. The hurt banding around his heart squeezed every time he thought to punish Katara for this blow to his mettle. She had to pay. She had to pay for doing this to him! For degrading him, for making him weak—

Anguish curdled his soul and he dropped his head between his knees, rasping for breath.

She'd pay for this. She'd pay…

* * *

Iroh had a servant bring Katara's meagre belongings to her new room, a north-facing suite in the tower much like Zuko's, only this one was a level above his so he'd have no excuse to be up on that floor harassing her. 

"These are officer's quarters," Iroh explained when he went to visit her after they'd both eaten dinner, she in her new room, while he'd gone back to the private dining room. He hadn't found his nephew around, but he thought it best to leave the boy alone for now. "They are the best available on the ship, on par with Zuko's and my own. Quite an upgrade, if you ask me."

"The only upgrade I'm going to appreciate is the one where Aang and Sokka will be released from the brig and we're all let go, safely and in one piece," Katara said ruefully.

Iroh sighed. "I hope you know what you're getting yourself into. Agni Kai isn't as clean cut as the Code makes it out to be. People have died in the arena. Or worse." He frowned deeply.

"I can take care of myself," Katara asserted firmly.

"Really? And how do you expect to do that? Do you have any idea how well-trained, how focused…how _determined_ Prince Zuko is?"

The Waterbender turned her back on the general and sat down quietly on the bed. He barely heard her response. "It's the only way."

She heard him sigh in surrender. "So you _have_ been planning an escape all this time." The old man dragged a stool next to the girl, currently curled cross-legged on the futon, and sat down heavily on it. "Prince Zuko had his suspicions, but he trusted you not to dismiss his hospitality and kindness. He was giving you a chance. I'd been hoping…" _I'd been hoping you'd give _him_ a chance…_he brooded.

Katara set her jaw and looked sharply at the old general. "Kindness? Really. Could've fooled me." She folded her arms, hugging herself. "I'm a prisoner here, General Iroh. All the nice meals and new clothes don't change that. I'm sorry if I mislead you all to think I had planned otherwise, but Aang is the Avatar…"

"I understand. I understand very well." He sent her a disappointed look. "I just wish you hadn't come down quite so hard on my nephew. He's rather…sensitive, you know."

In the back of her mind, Katara rolled her eyes. Zuko? Sensitive? She opened her mouth, ready to bite out a scathing comment about his nephew's "sensitivity," but heard herself say, "I'm sorry."

And she knew at that moment that she really meant it. The anger and irritation at Zuko she'd managed to whip up within her quickly drained away, leaving her heart a cold stone of resolve. Quietly, she affirmed, "I have to do this." Spoken aloud, the words inspired her steadfastness.

She thought about the curse that kept Karanna from fully entering the Spirit Realm; she thought about Aang and Sokka and how the Avatar's mission came first. And then she thought, for the first time with a singular clarity she'd not had before, that she had to let Zuko go. She couldn't go on like this, with this amorphous non-existent relationship dragging her down, holding her back. If she couldn't move on, she'd be forever mired in her confusing feelings for the boy who should be nothing more than an enemy. Her goals would be obscured, fogged in like the land beyond the water, shrouded in the unforgiving mists of time. Left like this…she'd soon become lost.

How ironic, she thought, that she didn't need Karanna or a view in a mirror to see herself so clearly for the first time. And now that she'd faced it, there really was no hiding from herself, from the truth: She _did_ feel something for Zuko. Something very strong…

She unconsciously clutched the neck of her robe together, as if to shield her heart from the chill invading her now.

Iroh regarded her silently, as if waiting for some further confession, his watery amber eyes seemingly gazing through her. When she said nothing more, he lumbered to his feet unsteadily. Katara automatically reached out to help him, but he waved her off. She wilted under his reproachful glance.

"Until the appointed time, you will not be allowed any contact with Prince Zuko, nor he with you," he declared formally. "You will be given leave to train and prepare for the duel, so I will schedule time between you and my nephew so that you can use the deck separately." He folded his hands into the sleeves of his robe. "You'll be allowed to move about the ship as you please, but you'll understand if I have a guard escort you around." He looked at her seriously. "You were the one to issue this challenge, Katara, and I hope and fully expect you to uphold our traditions. This is not just a matter of honour or giving face."

"I know. I read the book." She waved the tattered little manual, a corner of her mouth lifting disdainfully.

"You know that's not what I meant." Iroh frowned harder, a little flustered. "I'll let you keep that." He indicated the book. "For now…just think on what you're intending. You can still back out and withdraw the challenge."

He slowly made his way out, shuffling more tiredly and arthritically than Katara ever remembered seeing, and part of her cried for the easy relationship she'd unwittingly developed and now lost with this kind, elderly man. He really could have been her uncle. Anyone's uncle. It was hard to imagine this man as anyone's enemy.

Iroh stopped on the threshold and looked back at her. "For your sake, I hope you know what you're doing."

She looked down. "Me, too."


	23. Chapter 23

* * *

**Chapter Twenty-Three**

* * *

When Iroh left, Katara picked up the hand mirror from the vanity set Zuko's uncle had gifted to her and stared over her shoulder in her reflection. Karanna awaited her, a look of indignant fury lining her face. 

_What have you done!_ She screamed, the near shriek piercing Katara's ears only. _Are you insane? This was never a part of the plan!_

"It is now," Katara said firmly. "It wasn't working any other way, and we don't have much more time. At least this way, I can delay our trip away from the shore, plus I can visit Sokka and Aang."

A light tapping at the window caught the girl's attention. She went to the long, narrow awning window. Bai-Bai perched precariously on the ledge gazing at her expectantly—he must have been waiting for an opportunity to talk with her and finally spotted it. Now that she had a window, things would be easier.

She quickly popped the latch and the bird hopped off as she swung the pane open, happy to see the bird, a familiar feathered face. The crow ducked beneath the glass and flapped awkwardly into the room.

The spirit bird settled himself on the edge of the stool Iroh had just vacated and cawed loudly once.

"What? I don't understand."

_He says hello, and asks how things are going,_ Karanna translated impatiently. _He noticed you being moved to your nice new room, apparently._

"Would you tell him…"

_He understands you perfectly well—you just don't understand him, _Karanna snapped.

Oh, right. Katara had forgotten. She went ahead and explained her situation, the Avatar in the hand mirror snorting and making disgruntled noises intermittently. The great black bird listened intently then shifted restlessly from foot to foot when she got to the part about the Agni Kai challenge.

_He says you're almost as clever as a crow, _Karanna said dryly, and listened to the rest of his throaty, squawking report. _Witch has found the Avatar's Air bison, and he has agreed to your plan, but he is not happy. All is going according to schedule as Witch predicted, but this new development might put a wrench in things._

"I don't see why it should," Katara sniffed. "The Agni Kai has nothing to do with getting Aang and Sokka off the ship. That's what the bounty hunters and Witch and Bai-Bai are for. If anything, it's a distraction." Her assertion sounded forced, even in her own ears.

_You can't be certain the bounty hunters won't arrive before your duel. Or after, for that matter._

"I'll roll with the punches," Katara said huffily, irritated that the Avataress insisted on poking holes in her plan. "In any case, Zuko will be too wrapped up in other things to pay too much attention to what's going on around him." She hoped he would, anyhow. This new development in her scheme would certainly be preoccupying her thoughts for the next little while.

_You underestimate him. You have no idea what you're getting into, _the Waterbender in the mirror said. _The Fire Nation takes their duels seriously. You should, too. If you let me help you…_

"It won't come to that," Katara dismissed her sharply. "Let me worry about setting you free. Everyone else should just worry about their part in the plan. I'll deal with Zuko." She said it with such scathing conviction that Karanna was stunned into silence. Bai-Bai regarded her steadily and squawked a question.

The lady Avatar spoke first, slowly. _Katara…_she began hesitantly. Her eyes flickered, as though she were being fed information, reading Katara's face and mind. A stuttering realization dawned upon her.

She inhaled sharply. _No…no, you can't do that._

"You can't fight me on this," Katara said firmly, quietly.

Bai-Bai's spiritual powers gave him an insight into the Water girl's intentions, as well. He cawed loudly in protest and alighted onto the girl's shoulder, running his beak as though in panic around the shell of her ear. Tickled, Katara swatted at him, but he continued his urgent, breathy whisper, his feathers brushing softly against her cheek. He nuzzled her and goose bumps prickled on her neck at this strange affection.

_Bai-Bai's right. There's no need for you to do this._

"Witch will understand, even if you don't, and she's in more of a position to help Aang and Sokka than you are."

_Witch also said you need to start thinking about yourself. Don't be a martyr, Katara!_

The Waterbender closed her eyes and sighed. "I'm sorry. It's the only way." She put the hand mirror facedown on the mattress, and Karanna's voice, a distant whisper in the back of her mind, was silenced. Katara transferred the great black spirit bird from her shoulder to her wrist, nudging it insistently when it refused to leave her. Eventually, he obliged, then let out a low, mournful cry.

"Tell Witch the plan still stands. Getting Aang and Sokka off the ship is the main objective." She added, "And make sure they don't come after me—the last thing we need is for them to get _re_captured." She grimaced. "I'll do what I can from my end."

Bai-Bai hopped off her extended arm, took one last, bleak look at her, then hopped out the window and soared away.

* * *

Sokka wasn't hungry. That's what he told himself anyhow. He'd been plenty hungrier than this in his short lifetime—after all, he'd eaten lunch today. 

Mmm, lunch. The ship's cook had made a simple but hearty meal of _mai fun_ rice noodles in soup with fried fish and greens, and even though it had arrived cold, he had enjoyed it thoroughly….

_Stop thinking about food_, he grumbled to himself sternly. His stomach replied with a loud gurgling whine.

"You know, your dinner's still here and perfectly good. We don't take kindly to food waste on this ship," Ching said wryly.

"I'm not hungry," Sokka mumbled, even as his growling stomach belied that statement.

"Look, if your sister's here, there's no point in you starving yourself. You won't do yourself any good if you can't keep yourself alive."

"_Will_ we be kept alive?" Sokka shot over his shoulder. "Do you really think Zuko's going to let us go? Well, let me tell you something. That sicko you call a prince has a thing for my sister. I don't know what he plans for her, but if he tries to use me to make her do what he wants, I'm going to do anything I can to keep that from happening."

Ching was silent a moment, then spoke lowly. "Prince Zuko wouldn't allow the kind of behaviour you're implying from his men, and certainly not from himself."

Of course, Ching hadn't seen what Sokka had seen. That predatory glint in the teen's eye, that look of desolate hunger as he loomed over Katara's sleeping form…. The Water boy clenched his fists, wishing and praying to the spirits that Katara was okay, begging them to watch over her and protect her.

At that moment, the brig door creaked loudly open and two sets of footsteps came clanking up the hall. He didn't move, expecting more guards, or Iroh, or Zuko come to gloat. If he did, boy oh boy, was Zuko ever going to enjoy a Sokka ham-fist sandwich in the face…

"Sokka?" a soft voice came.

He whirled. "Katara!" He rushed to the bars, seeing his little sister smiling grimly past the cell's barrier. He hugged her tightly, the cold steel pressing between them. Tears stung at the corners of his eyes, and he swallowed a sob of mingled happiness and despair. They were together again at last. But they'd lost the fight…

"Are you okay?" She held him away, inspecting him cursorily while he did the same. Their hands were chilled and trembling as they touched each other searchingly, looking for injuries, signs of abuse. Katara looked over to the other cell and gasped. "Is Aang…?"

"Drugged." Sokka briefly explained the doctor's daily visits and the treatment he administered. "He's been lying there for days now. But what about you? Did Zuko…?"

The Waterbender's eyes glistened. "I gave myself up so I could be with you," she said softly. Her mouth pursed into a thin line and she just barely whispered, "But I'm going to get you out of here."

A fierceness gripped Katara's big brother suddenly. He grabbed her shoulders and looked her sternly in the eye. "Katara, I have to tell you something. _Stay away from Zuko._" He hissed through his teeth, "If you have a plan to escape, just go, don't worry about me or Aang, just get away from here as far and as fast as you can. Zuko's…" He faltered. "Zuko has this… Back at that weird island…"

She stopped him with a touch. "It's okay, Sokka, I know."

He gaped. "What?" She knew? How? "You mean, all this time…?"

She cupped her hands around his face and fixed his attention to her. "Sokka, I can't leave. The only reason I can even visit you now is because…" she let out a breath "…I challenged Zuko to an Agni Kai."

He was nonplussed. "A what?"

"A Fire duel, to reconcile disgrace and dishonour. In this case, the stakes are a bit higher. I've bargained for our freedom."

Sokka felt all the blood drain from his face. If it weren't for the fact that the shock had sapped his strength away, he'd throw a full-blown tantrum at his sister for the idiocy of that plan.

"Are you nuts?" he squeaked, a little afraid of what Katara would say if he told her he didn't think she could beat the Fire prince. But she seemed to understand his unvoiced concern, her eyes soft and bright.

"Just trust me. I know you're trying to protect me, but…just…" she sniffed, her lips trembling. Two fat streaks of tears overflowed from her eyes as her brave face crumpled. She began quietly sobbing, their dire situation finally overwhelming her, he guessed. Sokka hugged her tightly, letting his own tears fall silently, rubbing her back as her shoulders shuddered.

He looked up briefly to see that both Juno and Ching had retreated a little way down the hall to give them some privacy, but the third guard who had entered with Katara stood nearby, looking distinctly uncomfortable. He didn't wear a face plate like the other guards—Sokka guessed that he might be a non-Firebender—and he could see him looking upon the two children with some pity. Even so, he did not move away from them as the others had, intent on carrying out his duty to watch the Waterbender.

"Someone's coming to our rescue," she whispered in his ear, and blubbered between sentences. "You'll know when it's time."

Sokka stiffened and schooled his features so as not to betray his surprise. So she _did_ have an escape plan!

After a moment, Katara wiped her eyes and sniffled, forcing a watery smile onto her face. "I'll come and see you soon, I promise." She pinned him with a pointed look. "But I need you to be strong for me, Sokka. I can take care of myself. And you don't have to worry about Zuko: He's not allowed to come near me until the duel."

"And when will that be?"

"The next rainfall." They both looked toward the closed door at the end of the hall as if the clouds would burst at any moment. Katara's tiny seeming hand squeezed his shoulder. He looked at her, saw that glint of determination in her eye, the same one she'd had back when she'd refused to leave Haru and his father and the other Earthbenders trapped on that coal rig. She dried her tears, and was instantly the picture of calm, cool and collected. He'd always envied her ability to smooth over her emotions.

She looked at her brother once more. "Promise me you'll take care of yourself, Sokka. And take care of Aang. Don't do anything stupid."

"Only if you don't," he murmured. She smiled lopsidedly and got to her feet.

After a few more minutes while they assessed Aang's health and caught up on the last few days, Katara hesitantly left with promises to visit tomorrow. The doorway clanged shut once more and Ching and Juno stationed themselves before the cells, not daring to say anything to the grim-faced Water Tribe warrior.

Heeding his little sister's words, Sokka picked up the cold bowl of rice and slowly began eating. He felt stupid and useless just sitting there, stuffing his face while she was out there trying to rescue them with some cockamamie plan. But staying fit and prepared was probably the only thing he could do to help her now.

So he ate.

* * *

Momo was torn. Since the birds had attacked, he'd been loath to fly back into that crow-filled forest. He wasn't at full strength yet, his arms aching and the cuts on his skin stretching uncomfortably with every movement, but he needed to fly, needed to feel the wind beneath his wings. All that time in the Fire prince's room had made him stiff and fat with fruit. Still, he was well on the road to recovery, thanks to that odd Fire boy. 

The lemur balked and wheeled away yet again from the forest, gliding on the warm air currents spiralling up from the ship below. That boy hadn't been as bad as everyone seemed to think. But then again, Momo had always known that. It was a lemur thing: he could just _smell_ the really bad ones, and the Fire boy wasn't all that stinky, once you got used to it.

Lazily surfing the wind buffets, Momo contemplated his options. Should he go back to that cozy little room with the endless flow of apples and the soft bedding? But how could he? Appa was out there, his keepers were in trouble, and the last thing he'd been told to do was go find his air brethren.

But that would mean facing the crows…

_You are far from your home, lemur,_ a throaty rasp sounded nearby and Momo screeched in alarm as an enormous nightmare of ebony feathers and talons came streaking toward him. Folding his arms close to his body, the he plummeted down headfirst like a dart, spiralling down is the hopes of outrace or outmanoeuvring the bird. He swiftly popped his wings back open to halt his descent.. The ship! He had to get back to the ship!

_Wait!_ the crow barked, laughing, _I don't mean you harm!_

Yeah, right. Momo knew better than to listen to large birds who could speak his language. He streaked down, heading for the topmost smokestack in hopes of finding some shelter from the predator.

_I'm trying to help your friends!_ The crow veered away and began circling around the flue. Taking no chances, Momo tucked himself between the pipes and hissed menacingly at him.

_The sky bison Appa is with us! I'm an emissary and ally to the Water girl, Katara._

The crow knew about Appa? Momo peeked out, uncertain.

_We did not think you'd escaped the Fire prince's hold. But now that we know you have, you must come with us! We are going to rescue your friends!_

Being "all ears" applied to Momo on a regular basis, but now his attention was riveted. He wasn't sure he could trust this enormous bird, but the faintest trace of the Water girl clung to the crow's wings…along with…

…Appa!

Convinced the crow wasn't lying entirely, he listened to what he had to say.

* * *

The next three days passed without incident, and Katara did her best to avoid her own reflection, where Karanna waited with scathing cries of treachery and pleas to reconsider. Bai-Bai did not come to visit again in that time—either there had been no progress in the escape plan, or something else had happened. She hoped it was the former. 

All the while, a dark cloud settled over the Waterbender, the sense of dire duty and impending doom pressing upon her. Never had she felt so depressed—and scared—in her life.

To occupy herself, she divided her time between practicing her Waterbending and talking with Sokka in the brig. As promised, she didn't see Zuko once during that entire time, though she had the odd feeling she was being watched while she trained. When her spine tingled, she wondered if he might be secretly studying her from the shadows…. But no one was ever there. As she trained on deck, she watched the water with hope, her eyes scanning the horizon as she practiced water whips and even went through portions of Sokka's physical training regimens.

At least twice daily, Iroh would bring her tea and chat with her. Every time they sat together, he would try to talk her out of the Agni Kai with his nephew. She would always respond the same way—with a shake of her head, telling him she appreciated his concern, but she would do this her way.

For the first time in a while, Katara wondered about Momo. Witch had said Zuko had caught him in the woods, but she hadn't heard the lemur's distinctive trilling chatter at anytime while aboard, nor had she seen a cage or some place the prince might have kept the Avatar's pet. She prayed he was all right, and realized she missed his companionship. She also wondered about Appa: the bison could take care of himself, but she was mostly worried that he wouldn't listen to Witch and come stomping over to the ship to try to save Aang himself. A mess-up in the already messed-up plans would only throw things into further chaos.

* * *

On the second day after she'd issued the challenge, the boiler parts arrived and the engineer and crew went to work reassembling the great machine below decks. While they normally would have put the apparatus together in pieces on the spacious deck to be carried for refitting downstairs, no one was risking another encounter with the uncanny crows, who had taken to circling the ship's tower ominously. Being the superstitious lot they were, no one used the black birds as target practice, either. Rumour went around that Zuko's involvement in killing several of the birds might have angered a spirit or two, so the crew would not take any more chances by offending the birds, some going so far as to leave offerings of food on the roof of the tower to appease the ebony sentinels. 

To his great dismay, Sokka was not allowed to help with the reconstruction of the ship's boiler, and was resigned to yet another day in the brig. Katara couldn't help but smile as, during her daily visit, he loudly complained how no one appreciated his innate engineering talents.

"Sokka, all you had back in the South Pole was wood and hide canoes and snow forts. Fire Navy ships are completely different."

"It was a darn good fort though! It had its own potty!" he protested. "And I could have figured it out. I've seen—" He suddenly clamped his mouth shut.

"You've seen what?"

Sokka looked guiltily away, trying to shrug her penetrating gaze off. His sister pressed him.

"Sokka? How do you…oh my gods!" Katara's eyes widened. "You've been sneaking around the Fire Navy ship back at home!" She smacked him hard in the arm through the bars. "After yelling at me and Aang, too!"

"I've only been on it once, I swear!" He threw his hands up defensively. "And at least I didn't set off any booby traps and draw Zuko's ship to our village!" He made a face at her. "Why do you think I always told you, my little klutz of a sister, to keep away from it?"

She punched him in the shoulder again. "Who are you calling a klutz?" The Water girl regarded him a moment. "When did you go?"

"It was a couple of months after Dad left. I wanted to know as much as I could about the Fire Nation, and we had one of their ships right in our backyard." The set of her mouth made him defensive. "Look, I know all about the rules, but this was in the interest of national security!"

Katara sent him a long, sceptical look. "So… Only _once?_"

He waffled. "Okay, so I explored it twice..."

Katara waited.

"...Three times. A few times…" She pinned him with an indignant, stony glare. "C'mon, Katara, I was the eldest male and the whole village was counting on me to protect them. When arms won't cut it, intelligence can be the difference between victory and defeat."

"And exactly how _intelligent_ did you get?" she asked dryly.

"I learned a few things!" he objected. His anger deflated. "It's just…well, I don't know how useful they'd be now, since that ship is nearly as old as Gran-Gran. Probably older. I'm sure the design and engineering has changed since then."

That must have been the case, because throughout their conversation, none of the soldiers bothered to interrupt them or drag them away and keep them from speaking to each other again about the ship's internal workings. Or maybe they thought two kids from the South Pole would never figure it out.

The guards, in fact, were very cordial and even pleasant to her when Katara visited her brother. Sokka introduced them by name, something she was entirely shocked by. Her brother's vehement hatred of all things Fire Nation should not have endeared his keepers to him. She could only surmise he had some kind of escape plan brewing, but what it was, Katara couldn't fathom.

* * *

On the third day, a servant brought her up to the Navigation room at Iroh's behest. He was standing on the observation deck, the same one she and Zuko had picnicked on what seemed like eons ago. 

The old general stood solemnly by the guard rail, bronze eyes downcast, his back straight and tall. A cold, wet breeze ruffled his hair and robes, like bloodred standards against the unforgiving grey of the sky.

Seeing him standing there, Katara suddenly gleaned something else about the old man she'd not realize before: he was in pain. Not in his aged body, but deeper. Much deeper. A great tragedy had reduced his enormous spirit, a diaphanous spider webbing of cracks sprawling over what was once a perfect porcelain façade—damage what would forever weaken a fired vessel. She could almost taste his sadness drifting on the wind, bitter and bleak.

That stark diorama of the retired military leader, who simply radiated dignified nobility and watched the world around him with critical determination, would be forever burned into Katara's memory. It was a snapshot that would later remind her that, while he was a kind man, a decent man, a man who in all probability hadn't deserved any of the tragedy that had befallen him, he'd also been a warrior, a soldier, a bringer of death and destruction.

And somehow, understanding all this did not make her like or dislike, respect or shun Iroh any more or less. He was just a man…just as Zuko was just a boy.

"Ah, you're here." The tableau was shattered with a simple, sunny smile. She couldn't help but smile back. "Join me, please."

She obeyed, leaving the guard who shadowed her at the door, and stood by the old man, waiting.

His mushy lips pursed into a smile. "Tell me what you see," Iroh said.

She wasn't sure what to say. She looked all around her. The roiling sea was gunmetal grey, slashed with distant white caps, though the water in the cove was significantly calmer, and shrouded by that unyielding fog. The dark, brown-green landscape rising on their port side winked with the movement of hundreds of black wings. She shuddered, but not with dread—more like keen expectation. High above, she could discern three other crows circling the ship.

Carefully, she answered, "The trees. The cliffs. A bunch of birds…"

"Not on the shore," Iroh clarified. "Below."

Katara turned her attention downwards and with a jolt realized that Zuko was practicing his Firebending on the deck below. Her heart stuttered and she swallowed a lump of unbidden excitement. The trickle of awareness within her that had been pinched off since she boarded abruptly gaped open and a tidal wave of feeling smashed into her, making her reel away from the railing.

"Are you all right?" Iroh asked tentatively as she faltered.

Why was she feeling like this? Recomposing herself, panting just a little, Katara shakily replied, "Yeah. Um…fear of heights…" She willed the floodgate within her to close, and it stemmed the rush of excitement and longing to a painful seep. Iroh watched her charily, then made an odd noise in the back of his throat as she carefully edged toward the railing again.

Zuko was launching fierce punches at his opponent—the first lieutenant, Jee—his fists wavering with hot yellow flames. The Waterbender watched the furious back-and-forth, a deadly dance of attack and riposte, block, dodge and parry. Watching the Firebenders fight was like a sword-fighting match, only the benders' whole bodies were weapons. It was a breath-taking display of raw power that made Katara feel…odd.

"So, tell me what you see," Iroh repeated his question.

She hesitated. "It's Zuko," she said as evenly as she could. "Sparring with one of the crew."

The old man made an affirmative noise. "And…?"

She looked up at him. "I don't understand."

"Watch."

At that moment, one of Jee's fireballs grazed Zuko's shoulders and Katara gasped as the young man pivoted away, injured, but unwilling to stop. He countered, sending a series of long gouts to lick at the lieutenant's toes, then charged him to engage in a fierce hand-to-hand, flaming fists being caught, deflected, connecting.

She could hear Zuko grunting and growling, and another pang of feeling wormed through her core as her cheeks heated. She'd never realized those guttural noises sounded so…suggestive.

"I'm not sure what you expect me to see," she said to quell her increasingly licentious thoughts.

Iroh sighed heavily. "Katara, do you really think you could beat my nephew in hand-to-hand combat, much less a bending duel? Look at him." He pointed. Katara looked again as Jee knocked the prince down. He landed flat on his back. A crumb of fear lodged in her chest, but he got to his feet and gestured at his opponent to come again, and the Water girl felt the strangest sense of pride and relief swell within her.

Iroh continued, a thread of steel in his voice. "I trained Prince Zuko myself these past two years. He was never as good as his prodigal sister, not nearly as talented or powerful as many of the students I've had. But," he qualified ardently, "he is perhaps one of the _best_ students I have ever had the honour of teaching. He trains constantly, and works hard at what he does. Most importantly, he _never gives up._"

She looked hard at the general. "Why are you telling me this?"

"Katara," he grabbed her by the shoulders, "I am going to be very frank with you. You will not win in an Agni Kai against my nephew. I have been watching you train, and right now, at your level, though you are naturally gifted and just as determined as Zuko, I know your battle will be lost." His eyes were full of pain as he searched her face, waiting for some flicker of comprehension from the girl. "If you fight Zuko, _you will die_."

Katara didn't breathe for a moment. Hearing it spoken so plainly…

But she'd already known she wouldn't win. In the library, as she'd read dozens of accounts of historic Agni Kai matches that had changed the course of Fire Nation history, she knew that she was prepared to do whatever it took to save Aang and get him off this ship. Sokka was right about the importance of Aang's mission, and she couldn't allow anything to get in the way of that goal. Saving the world was much more important than one life….than her life.

"Just rescind the challenge," Iroh insisted, snapping her wandering attention back to him, "and I will see about releasing you and your brother."

She shook her head. "I can't." She withdrew from him, hugging her arms. "You don't understand. I have to do this."

Barely a heartbeat passed before Iroh exploded in furious exasperation. "Katara, your death will _not_ free that spirit trailing around after you!"

She whirled around, eyes wide. "What did you just say?"


	24. Chapter 24

**Happy Golden Year of the Pig! Hope your Lunar New Year celebration was made of awesome!**

* * *

**Chapter Twenty-Four**

* * *

The Waterbender grabbed the old man by the shoulders. "You can see her? You see Karanna? How?" Katara's heart pounded in her chest. 

Iroh let out a half groan, half sigh. "It's a long story…but that's not important. Since you've been aboard, I've had to shade my eyes from that…that _thing_ wavering between you and Zuko." He squinted, pinching the bridge of his nose tiredly. "I thought my eyesight was playing tricks, but I gradually realized that it was a spiritual connection of some kind. What I haven't seen until the last few days is the spirit chained to you." He waved airily around her, as though a fly were buzzing around her head.

Katara looked around her, but saw nothing. At that moment, the shrill cawing of the crows on the mainland sounded oddly like mocking laughter.

"Can you hear her? Does she speak to you?" Ebullient, Katara bubbled over with questions.

The old man made calming motions at her and ushered her back inside. He sat down at his Pai-sho table, currently devoid of the fold-up board, and tiredly poured them each a cup of tea, but she was so excited to be sharing her experience with someone she found she couldn't drink.

Steadying himself, the retired general spoke. "I've been waiting for you to say something about the spirit, but it quickly became obvious that you weren't interested in sharing the truth. Not that I blame you—" he smiled quirkily "—people tend to think you've gone crazy if you say you can communicate with the dead."

"Why didn't you say something to me earlier? I might have told you!"

"Oh, really?" he asked sceptically. "Because you were _so_ willing to elaborate on your relationship with my nephew." He made a noise in mock disgust and let out another long sigh that, in old-people speak, translated into _ugh, the things teenagers put me through…_ "I gave you plenty of opportunity to speak up, Katara, but you've brought this to a head. As much as I am curious about what you and my nephew have been through to create this bond, the Spirit World is not to be trifled with. If you have no idea what you are doing, and you do the wrong thing, you could do more damage than good."

Katara paled a little. He was right. She didn't know that her death, or Zuko's for that matter, would set Karanna free from the mortal realm. She knew nothing about these curses—who did? Not bound and captive "Avatar Spiritual-Bridge-Guy" Aang, that's for sure. Even Karanna didn't seem sure. Or maybe she was…Katara realized she hadn't even given the lady Avatar a chance to say one way or another. She'd been steadfastly avoiding any interaction with the Waterbender's spirit.

But Iroh actually seemed to have some inkling of what was going on. Here was someone who might actually be able to help set Karanna free. But if he did, what would happen to Aang and Sokka, not to mention herself? He wouldn't just let them all walk free to save one measly spirit. Not after his beloved nephew's two-year-long quest was finally over.

Would he?

"How is it you're able to see her?" Katara asked. "I can't see her except in a mirror."

"It's not something I can explain, exactly," he admitted a little ruefully. "But many of those who are able to see or sense otherworldly beings are themselves closer to their spiritual selves…which is to say, they have a more innate understanding of their own existence, their place in the world, in Fate's great web of fortune. Such sensitives turn their eyes inward as much as they do outward, and achieve a kind of minor enlightenment. Of course, it is nothing compared to what a fully-realized Avatar can do, as the bridge between worlds."

That made some sense. Since her own jaunt to the Spirit Realm, Karanna had said that mirrors would amplify Katara's spiritual awareness. What had she called it? _A spyglass to the other you…_

Could she talk to the Avataress right then and there? she wondered. She focussed hard and called out with her mind.

_Hello? Karanna, are you there?_

No answer came. The Water girl sighed—she had expected the woman to jump on any opportunity to communicate with her. Maybe Katara just wasn't spiritual enough.

Iroh seemed to know what she'd been trying. "It's not as easy as you think, communicating with ghosts," he said wryly. "They're not at your beck and call and it's not as mechanical as sending a messenger hawk. Your mind is cluttered with all kinds of thoughts and emotions. If you've been shutting her out as firmly as she's led me to believe, they there's no doubt that it'll take some work on your behalf to open a channel to her again." He tugged on his beard thoughtfully. "It's especially difficult if you happen to be…er…ah…" he hedged and then chuckled lightly, "if you happen to be in denial."

"Denial? Me? What would I be in denial about? I'm not in denial!"

The general sent her an arch look, gold eyes slanted ironically. She instantly thought of Zuko's honey-coloured gaze, and blushed deeply, pushing those images away quickly.

"Back to more pressing issues," the old man steered her back on topic, "you and I need to think of a way to separate the spirit from you and my nephew without harming any of you. I don't fully understand the nature of the connection, and we could inadvertently cause a chain reaction if something happened to one of you."

"Are you saying…that if one of us dies…"

"I don't know what could happen," Iroh clarified staunchly. "I need to do more research and contact a few theological scholars in order to ascertain what it is we're dealing with. But the resources I need are only available in the Fire Nation, and the terms of your Agni Kai aren't getting us there any faster…" he spread his palms open helplessly.

Katara cut him a sceptical look. Was this all a ploy to get her to back out of the fight?

"I know what you are thinking," he said, as if in response to her unspoken question. "I'm the uncle of your enemy, and that makes _me_ your enemy, and untrustworthy." He sipped his tea. "We may have our differences, but I am a Spirit-fearing man, Katara. Beyond this life, beyond the war and the lines in the sand and the places we come from is another plane of existence we will all share someday, a place that has to be preserved and protected as much as this world should be.

"The Spirit World is subject to rules and laws no one, not even the Avatar, can fully comprehend. That is why I am advising you against fighting in this Agni Kai with Zuko. There's no telling what will happen if you are killed, or Zuko is hurt, and I don't want to see something happen to one so young and who holds so much promise." His eyes softened. "I think your phantom—Karanna, as you call her—knows this, too. She is begging me to help."

Katara looked long and hard into old Iroh's soft, lined face, a set of parallel lines creasing the flesh between his thick eyebrows. She had to concede his point. She didn't know how she could possibly win on any front if she were dead. Being the selfless martyr would help no one in this case.

Something inside her crumbled, and if Katara weren't already sitting, she might have sunk to her knees. She'd been so ready to give up whatever she had to in order to save Aang, but only now did she realize how much she'd been willing to give up. Somehow, in all the noble talk about sacrifice and the Avatar's mission, Katara had missed the plain and simple fact that she had been willing to commit suicide for her friend.

Was that love? Or was that some maudlin and misguided notion of duty? It was suddenly all so meaningless—her life, her plan, the war, Aang's mission…why did any of it have to happen? Why couldn't they all just be happy with each other, and let come what may? The thoughts spiralling through her head discombobulated reality, and for a moment, Katara felt completely lost, disoriented, as though her consciousness had been disconnected from her body. Even so, she felt her eyes burn with tears, a sob threatening to burst past her tightly pursed lips.

Iroh seemed to sense her conflict, and covered her trembling hand with his, warm and reassuring. She looked into his pained face and swallowed her pain under that benevolent gaze. How could the old man have seen her despair so clearly? How had he known what she'd intended?

And then a memory like a brick wall suddenly slammed into her, and Witch's harsh rasp sliced through her mind.

_There are times, Katara of the Southern Water Tribe, when we must do things for ourselves and only ourselves. To sacrifice your life and devote your existence to the wishes and goals of others may be considered noble and selfless…but it is also foolish. You might as well be a slave._

Another floodgate within her mind had opened, and Katara was assaulted with a flurry of images and snippets of time from her very recent past. Or maybe they were being fed to her, because she was seeing herself back in the hilly swampland of the Spirit Realm.

_I can help you, if you let me._

_I'm with you, but you haven't been listening to me._

_I'm giving you a chance to figure out for yourself if this Prince Zuko is the one for you._

_Open you mind. Let me through, and I can show you how to Waterbend like a master, give you Avatar-like powers…_

She was jarred out of her lapse when something warm touched her shoulder. "Katara?" Iroh looked into her face with worry. "Are you all right?"

"I…I think so." She touched her forehead.

He looked at her worriedly. "Please, tell me about this spirit—who she is, and how she's come to be with you. I want to help."

Even though he was still the enemy, all her misgivings about the old Firebender had vanished, and she found herself unable to hold her tongue. After about fifteen uninterrupted minutes, he had the whole story about Lian Island, her dreams, and her Spirit World encounter. She told him sparingly about Bai-Bai and Witch, her only other allies in this fight right now, diminishing their role in her adventure to make them sound less threatening than they actually were. The old man took it all in without question.

When she was done, Iroh rocked back, thinking. Katara downed her cold tea, feeling drained. It felt as though a great burden had been lifted from her shoulders, and she knew then how good it was to have someone to confide in—someone who was a friend and confidant. In many ways, Iroh had been a better ear than either her brother or Aang; he listened, he didn't judge or interrupt, and he always seemed to know the right thing to say.

The old man looked amused and pained at the same time. He sat contemplating his tea for a long, long while, until she wondered if maybe he had dropped off to sleep. He finally spoke. "I don't look forward to this," he admitted. "Zuko is troubled enough. To break his heart…" He wrung his hands in his lap.

"I don't know what else to tell you. This is what the Spirits told me, and they've given me no other alternative to breaking his heart." Her voice dropped to a low whisper—one Iroh noted carefully.

"Give me some time to consider the matter," he said. "In the meantime, would you please revoke your challenge?"

She sighed. "No."

"No?" He started. "Why on earth not? Have you listened to a word I said?"

She pinned him with a hard look. "Karanna's spirit isn't the only reason I'm aboard, General Iroh. I plan to leave with Aang and Sokka beside me. Aang has to stop the war."

The Firebender slumped in his seat, defeated. Without looking up, he said, "I will join you later, perhaps after dinner, and we will talk some more."

Taking this as her cue to leave, she rose from her seat.

"The weather won't last much longer," he commented, looking out at the low, grey sky. "I can feel a storm coming…I feel it deep in my bones."

"Maybe it was something you ate," Katara returned shortly and exited, her guard rejoining her at the threshold.

* * *

Iroh watched her go, tugging on his beard and thinking. 

He knew where he stood when it came to matters regarding the Spirit World. His position was clear. It was everything else that was muddled.

Poor Zuko, he thought, his heart aching for his tortured, misguided nephew. The boy really did have an affinity for the Water Tribe girl, even if he pretended not to. What would unrequited love and a broken heart do to the angst-ridden prince?

And Katara…Iroh shook his head. He'd never seen such vehement self-delusion and denial. Except maybe in his nephew. If she could just see reason and drop her challenge, she'd have a chance, a hundred chances, to escape, to win Zuko over, to change his nephew's destiny, to alter the fate of the world...

He washed his palms over his face. Those two teens would be the death of him…

Then an idea struck him. Maybe he could kill two birds with one stone…

* * *

Their reunion was not entirely joyless, but Appa sure was glad to see that Momo was all right, despite his injuries and the precarious situation their friends and keepers were in. 

The great black crow named Bai-Bai settled on a tree branch, fixing each member of the rescue party with his deep, glassy eyes. A few of his marshals, crow brethren who were leaders among the flock and who always attended war councils, perched nearby, eyeing the meaty lemur avariciously. Appa made a low rumbling sound in warning, and the birds ruffled their feathers indignantly. They would not disobey Bai-Bai's explicit orders to not eat the lemur…or the bison, should he fall.

Witch waited patiently to one side, hunched on a rotting log, picking her crooked nose. It was hard to tell who was master here, Appa thought, with the great bird so high up, and the monstrous, potent woman so low to the ground. The lesser birds seemed to listen to them both equally.

"Well?" she finally asked, flicking a booger away.

Bai-Bai gave his report, glad for once that he needed no translating among this motley crew. He explained the details of the Agni Kai, and Witch stroked her hairy chin before throwing her hands up in disgust.

"That girl really is insane," she exclaimed. "Even now, the bounty hunters are watching, gathering information, waiting for an opportunity to strike. Things could get really messy, and when they do, _we're_ going to have to be the ones to clean up."

The crows all around them shifted restlessly, hungry for carnage and carrion. Bai-Bai cawed discordantly, silencing them all very abruptly. He hissed something.

"How chivalrous," Witch teased. "Does one Water girl really matter than much to you? Really, Bai-Bai, I didn't think your tastes leaned toward human mortals."

Momo and Appa both shuddered. Humans, while they had their uses, did not make suitable mates. They were just so…_awkward._

The Great Spirit crow shrugged them off and whispered his explanation and the solution.

"I don't have any issues with that," Witch said after a thoughtful pause. "As long as the brethren agree?" She looked to the branches where the Corvidae marshals sat, and then all gave their acquiescence. They knew what was at risk, and would willingly follow the Great Spirit crow into the fire, if that was what he wanted.

Appa lowed grouchily, voicing his question.

"There's nothing you can do until I say so," Witch repeated testily for the tenth time. "And don't you dare go running off like that foolish Water girl. You'll get yourself and your friends killed if you do, you hear?"

Momo chirruped.

"Not you, either," she snapped.

His huge ears drooped.

"We stick to the plan. End of story. We'll adjust where we have to…but there's no telling how or when that will happen. There's nothing to do now but wait." Witch sighed and got to her feet. She stopped then, sniffing the air. She frowned. "I smell a storm brewing."

The crows all ruffled their feathers, feeling it, too.

Witch looked to Bai-Bai, looked to the others. "That Agni Kai's going to be soon. And if I know anything about Manua, it's that he'll take the opportunity sooner, rather than later."

Again, Appa lowed, more despondently this time.

"That's right," she said grimly. "Things are about to get really, really messy."

* * *

Zuko's expression danced between confusion, elation, and infuriation. "She _misses_ me?" 

"She told me herself this afternoon," Iroh said evenly, plucking up another slice of orange. "Something about missing all your 'yelling and stomping around.'" The old man laughed when his nephew glowered at him. "I know what she means, though. You do make an awful racket when you're about, Prince Zuko. I'd miss it, too."

"Don't try to be funny, Uncle," the young Firebender said testily. Distracted, he gave up on dessert and slapped a palm on the table. "I'm this close to throwing her overboard right now." He pinched a bit of air between his fingers, and Iroh waved at him dismissively.

"Why? You haven't seen her in more than three days. She's done nothing to anger you in that time." Iroh gobbled his orange innocently and Zuko glared at him. "We were only making polite conversation. Besides," the old man added, "you can't go near her and you can't throw her off the ship. Agni Kai rules, as you very well know."

He snarled, tossing his linen napkin onto the tabletop. This Agni Kai business with Katara was just ridiculous. If it had been the Avatar who'd challenged him, or even her pathetic brother, he would have no problem…

"Well, I'm going up to see our guest," Iroh announced, getting to his feet. "I'm going to bring her some tea and almond cookies. Just remember: _you_ don't go near her. You hear me?" He rested a fist on his hip and waggled his finger at him like a scolding mother. "If I find you even hovering at her door, I will smite you soundly around the ears."

"I'm not ten years old, Uncle, I know the rules!" Zuko blasted indignantly.

Iroh snorted. "Hmph. Let's make sure you do now. I have a few…er…important _things_ to discuss with Katara, and I don't need _you_ hanging about." With that, he picked up a tray with a fresh tea pot and a plate of biscuits and padded away, but not before pointing at him and commanding, "Stay!"

The prince snorted at him and shook his head. Uncle could be so paranoid sometimes. Of course he wasn't going to go near the girl! Agni Kai rules were very strict about the sequestration. If the opponents had an encounter before the fight, any number of ugly things could happen: coercion, intimidation, assassination, seduction…

But Zuko wasn't one of those types. Katara wasn't worth that kind of effort, he told himself. He was a shoe-in to win this duel anyway, and by the spirits, he was going to show her!

_Misses me. Yeah right_.

But in the next heartbeat, he was thinking about her…again. While he'd kept himself busy the past three days furiously overseeing the boiler repairs, training and preparing for the journey home, thoughts of the Waterbender managed to slip in when his mind was idle and his hands were empty. He felt…incomplete, somehow, without her hanging about. Sure, she'd only been aboard a few days now, but the time they'd spent together had been—

Zuko slapped himself manfully, a red welt jumping up on his pale cheek. _What am I thinking?!_

He was going to duel her any day now. Nothing would stop him from completely and utterly humiliating her on the duelling pitch, certainly not nostalgic reminisces of something that never really happened—or as Uncle liked to call it, fanciful daydreaming. Until the day the prince saw her begging for mercy at his feet, thoughts like those were best kept stuffed in the back of his mind where they wouldn't clutter and confuse him.

A twinge of guilt stabbed at him, and he quelled it with another grunt. Misses him. Ha!

Well, Uncle Iroh certainly wasn't missing her, Zuko thought irritably. _He_ got to see her all the time, bringing her tea and cookies and polite conversation…

He looked at the door and frowned severely. He looked away. But his head slowly turned back, picturing his uncle shuffling down the hall and knocking on Katara's door. She'd invite him in with a smile and he'd sit with her for hours…

_I am _not_ jealous of a fat old man,_ he berated himself harshly, and shoved a cookie into his maw, crunching on it furiously, pinning his glower to the far, blank wall and cursing himself for choosing such an unremarkable thing to fix his attention on. He did it anyway, counting the nearly invisible rivets in the steel plating, studying that lone scuff near the bottom, noting that dark blob of crusted something someone had surreptitiously wiped on the wall at hip level…

Uncle's voice floated back to him in his mind:_ I have a few important things to discuss with her…_

His eyes drifted back to the door.

What could he possibly be talking to her about?


	25. Chapter 25

**Even more fanart, this time, by Vidar5: www. deviantart . com/ deviation / 49449475/**

* * *

**Chapter Twenty-Five**

* * *

Zuko curtly nodded to guards on the night watch as he passed them, trying to look as casual as he could, but not quite achieving it since most of the soldiers were unused to being acknowledged by the moody, self-absorbed royal. But what did they expect, really? He had important places to be!

That's what he told himself, anyhow.

He stopped at one intersection and stooped, pretending to adjust his boot as two patrolling guards walked by, saluting him neatly before continuing on. The Firebender scanned the corridors then swerved left, peering around the corner quickly to make sure his Uncle wasn't near.

He paced down the hallway and hurried up the stairs, hearing no one else in this section, and came to the corridor where the girl's room was. The guard had been dismissed for dinner, it seemed, and Zuko was instantly irked. What if the Waterbender had snuck out to try to free the Avatar and her brother? He would report this fatal oversight to Jee at the next opportunity and make sure someone paid for their carelessness...

But Uncle seemed to trust that Katara would not try anything and would remain aboard until the duel. That she hadn't attempted to escape these past three days must have indicated something—determination, optimism, whatever it was that kept her spirits up and her chin high. It made Zuko shake his head with disgust.

But a good portion of that disgust wasn't aimed at the Water Tribe girl: it was aimed at himself. Why was he even here, anyhow? He refused to believe he was _that_ curious about what his old relative was talking to the girl about. He couldn't possibly be that desperate to know what she had to say….

He stood there a long while, a few feet from Katara's door, staring sightlessly at the studded steel bulkhead, trying to come up with a valid reason why he should be breaking all the rules of Agni Kai sequestration. Nothing about this whole affair had sat right with him since she'd challenged him. It just didn't make any sense.

This, then, he reasoned, was a matter of honour. It would only be right, he told himself as he set his shoulders, that he personally inform her, an inferior Waterbender woman, that he had all the advantages over her when it came to the sparring ring. Uncle would understand: he knew his old relative didn't approve of this fight. Zuko was even a little flattered that the retired general knew without a doubt that his nephew would crush the little girl.

Yes, that was it. He was a prince. He could afford to dispense some mercy. Ally or enemy, he had no wish to hurt a little girl.

Not much, anyhow.

He raised a fist to bang out a knock, but the heavy door, already ajar, swung soundlessly open a few inches. Zuko jumped back from the portal, ducking out of his Uncle's line of sight. He pressed himself against the wall by the door and listened.

"…really should reconsider." The old man's rumble was interrupted by a loud slurp. Tea, of course. "You know how well-trained Prince Zuko is, not just as a Firebender, but in the deadly martial arts and weapons, as well. He will not give the Avatar up easily."

"It doesn't matter." Katara's voice was soft but firm. "I will fight him with everything I have. This is as much about Sokka and Aang as it is about…whatever _this_ is between Zuko and me."

Zuko felt his cheeks heat. So they were talking about him! He leaned in closer as his uncle went on. "My dear, you know there must be a better way. You and my nephew…well, you could work something out together. It's not the end of the world."

"And what if it is? You know how important Aang is—what he means to the war!" she exploded.

Zuko chewed on his tongue, a searing stab of jealousy lancing through him. Was she _still_ intent on rescuing that _little boy?_

"There are alternatives," Iroh insisted calmly. "And if I know my nephew half as well as I think, he doesn't want to see you hurt. None of us do."

"I can't…I have to fix this. But it's not…that is, he and I…" She dithered, making fussing noises.

Iroh cut in. "You know he likes you, don't you?"

Zuko held his breath. Katara made no audible response.

"It's not a bad thing for a young man his age." Iroh chuckled. "Why, I'd be worried if he _wasn't _attracted to a pretty girl like you!"

"Flattery will get you nowhere," Katara said wryly, and the general laughed. Her soft, reluctant chuckle made the prince's heart smile.

"You know, given the chance, Zuko can be very compassionate and kind. He's had a difficult and unusual youth, and a rather rough childhood." There was a long pause, and the prince imagined the Water girl turning this over in her mind with a cute, thoughtful pout of her lips. "Despite all that, you have to admit he's quite a catch."

Though he knew Uncle Iroh dispensed compliments so freely, he was nonetheless a little flattered. The old man always did know how to pump up a guy's ego. But this wasn't singing his praises…this was honest. Earned, he felt. Zuko knew he wasn't exactly a ladies' man, or a compassionate man, or a leader that everyone respected. Zhao had certainly made it clear that his loyalty did not lie with the crown prince. That anyone would vouch for Zuko made him feel…validated.

And then his uncle teasingly sang, "You're _blush-ing._"

Prince Zuko wiped the silly grin off his face and focused on the rest of their conversation.

"Tell me, Katara. When…I mean, _if_ you lose the Agni Kai, what will you do afterwards?"

"I don't intend to lose," she said stiffly, her voice going cold once more. "The only 'afterwards' is me, Sokka, Aang and Momo riding away on Appa."

Zuko grimaced. A few days ago, the Avatar's lemur had gone missing. Zuko had searched the ship on his own, but hadn't bothered to tell anyone else apart from his uncle about the escapee. After a fruitless day of searching, he concluded that Momo must have snuck out when no one was looking. The ungrateful little beast, he scowled to himself. Well, he could consider his life debt paid!

"Momo? Ah, yes, the lemur," Iroh rumbled. "Prince Zuko was taking care of him on his own, you know. He fixed his wounds, fed him, and had him cleaned up."

To his eternal gratitude, the old man didn't say anything about owing the lemur a life-debt to the girl. Still, Katara sounded sceptical, if not incredulous.

"Really," she deadpanned.

"Absolutely. My word of honour on it. Like I said, he can be very compassionate."

"If that's true, I want to see Momo and make sure he's being fed properly."

Zuko cringed.

"Er, well, you see, after his wounds had healed, Zuko…" he wavered. "He let him go."

"He. Let. Momo. Go."

"That's right."

"So he let the lemur go, but is keeping me and my brother here?"

"Oh, well, you and your brother are far more…er, dangerous to his mission."

"Riiiight."

Zuko shook his head, knowing this would come back to bite him sooner or later, and made a mental note to find the lemur.

The two lapsed into silence for a while, and he waited with bated breath for his uncle to say something else about him. The drawn-out quiet was punctuated by sips and slurps, and the clink of teacups.

"So," Iroh chimed in, "do you have a boyfriend back home waiting for you?"

Katara emitted a wet, spluttering, choking noise. "What?"

"I was just asking—"

"I heard you," she said, flustered. "And if you must know, no. All the men of our tribe went to war." The bitterness in her voice was evident. "Sokka is—_was—_the eldest male in the village."

An uneasy quiet settled. "I see." Iroh's response sounded contrite, but Zuko knew how subtle his esteemed relative could be. "It's a shame," he went on softly. "I know what it's like…to have so many people—family and friends and so on—disappear on you. It can't be easy for you."

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to snap at you." Katara's apology was sincere. "You caught me off guard, is all."

"All's forgiven," Iroh said. And they lapsed into another comfortable silence before he carefully inquired once more.

"_So, Katara…"_ And the _real_ interrogation began. Had she had many boyfriends? Had she met any nice boys on her journey? Was she promised to anyone yet? Were there many good-looking boys in the South Pole? What kind of boy was she looking for? Did she care what nation they were from?

Iroh's firm but plaintive badgering technique, reminiscent of an adolescent girl at a slumber party, had been used before, Zuko knew, whenever he was questioning a crew member about some disciplinary measure he needed to deal with. The gentle tone usually had great results…if the subject of the interrogation had been softened up a bit first, usually by an irate Lieutenant Jee.

But Katara outright refused to answer any of his questions, to Zuko's dismay, and the young Firebender had the urge to fetch the Lieutenant. That is, until his uncle asked The Question.

"So, what do you think of my nephew?"

The prince could hear his heart pounding in his head, and his palms turned moist. He growled at himself. This was ridiculous! Why should he care what she thought of him? He was here to do her a favour—to talk her out of the Agni Kai and save herself the pain and humiliation of a swift and merciless defeat.

But her soft, earnest reply quelled his raging thoughts. "I don't know what to think anymore." A pause. "He's…well, I guess he's just doing what he thinks is right… Right for him, I mean. And that's all we can do, isn't it? What we think is right, even if we don't know any better. It's something I suppose I can understand…and admire."

His mouth went dry. She _admired_ him? His heart did a little pirouette.

"Do you think he's…cute?"

"I am NOT answering that!" Her tone was indignant, but a telling giggle burst from her lips, and Zuko was caught between dancing and despairing. How could she possibly think him as "cute"? The Avatar's lemur was _cute_. A dancing platypus-bear in a tutu was _cute_. He was…well…_not_ cute. He tried to find a word for himself, but _striking_ was the only thing that came to mind. Yes, _striking_. Even with the blasted scar, he was a wholly _striking_ figure. Yeah. That didn't sound too self-deprecating or egoistical…

Even so… He allowed himself to pump his fists in the air in triumph before fixing his face into a scowl once more. _She thinks I'm cute!_

"Well, my dear, if I can't talk you out of the Agni Kai tonight, I can only bid you a good evening and try again tomorrow." Zuko heard the clinking of porcelain as his uncle gathered the tea set together. He backed into the shadows as Iroh's soft shuffle neared the portal. "You already know you don't have to do this. I don't wish to see either of you hurt. But you should know that Prince Zuko is kind and generous and courteous, despite outward appearances, and you two could have a wonderful time together as friends, short or long-term. Just…be honest with yourself, Katara. And be honest with my nephew, for once. Because only the truth will set you free."

"You've given me much to think about, General Iroh." Katara's voice was soft.

Zuko's stomach somersaulted when the door opened. He ducked behind a bunch of crates stacked in one corner as his uncle stepped past the jamb. "I will leave you to your thoughts, then. Good night."

Iroh exited and shut the door. He walked away from the hiding prince, humming sonorously, the empty teacups chiming with each jouncing step. To the prince's everlasting ire, his uncle hadn't even called for a guard to be posted at Katara's door; didn't even lock it behind him. As a test, he waited and watched to see if the girl would emerge, but after nearly twenty minutes of lurking in the dust, she made no appearance.

_This is as much about Sokka and Aang as it is about…whatever this is between Zuko and me._

He wished she had said more about him. He couldn't believe Uncle wasn't more curious and hadn't probed further. What _was_ going on between them? Did she know something Zuko didn't? For that matter, did Uncle?

Damn old people and their wisdom. If only it came as easily to him.

Zuko hesitated a minute longer in front of that door before making his move. If he didn't do it now, the guard would return, spot him, and probably snitch on him to the retired general.

His heart sped up as he turned the handle and let the steel door swing slowly open until it clanged against the inner wall. His eyes took a moment to adjust to the dimness.

The long awning window framed the evening sky, a swath of royal blue thickening with dark grey clouds. Katara sat cross-legged in the middle of the room near the back wall, facing a table with four lit candles lined up on its surface, almost exactly like his was in the room below. A cursory glance around told him this room was, in fact, identical to his, minus the personal effects. He'd wondered these past few nights about her quarters, how she slept, if she snored…

His mind snapped back to the present as he observed her, her rigid back to him, her long, dark braid hanging against a field of faded sky-blue. She sat there silently, as though meditating, and Zuko yearned to say something brilliant, like "I meditate too!" But no words of wonder came to him.

He realized he was just staring at her when she spoke.

"You're not supposed to be here."

The surprisingly soft cadence of her words startled the Fire prince. He had expected her to yell at him and attempt to throw him out, but she just sat there. He leaned against the door jamb, arms folded over his chest, forcing a smirk onto his lips, hoping his easy manner would unnerve her somehow. But the tactic was deflected back upon him: her perfect calm was making his gut twist tensely.

"I'm a prince," he shot back haughtily, overcompensating with the intensity of his assertion. "And this is my ship. I can be wherever I please, whenever I please."

Just to show he'd been bolstered by this spoken conviction, he stepped past the threshold.

"Close the door behind you," Katara said quietly.

The whispered directive jarred him. He had expected this confrontation to involve a lot more screaming and name calling. Now that he was here, he realized he had, in fact, been itching for a battle of words. A heated conversation. Blows, even. He had not anticipated this reserved young woman to simply sit there and be polite.

Now that he thought about it, he had no idea why he'd come, risking a severe talking-to (or much, much worse, if they intended to follow the code of Agni Kai strictly) from his uncle if he were caught. His noble intentions had slipped away from him, and seemed completely nonsensical after what he'd heard. He'd already established Katara's objectives, knew there was no way he could convince her to back out of a fight she couldn't win. So why did he feel like he had to see her?

The prince hung back a moment, thinking he should just throw a scathing comment in the peasant's direction and run, but instead, he stepped farther in and shut the door, closing off his only escape. The light from the lamps in the corridor disappeared and the room was suddenly too dark and too small to hold both of them. He became hyperaware of his skin, his body heat, the brush of his hair against the back of his neck, and the way the girl in the room was affecting all that.

He could sense a great deal of patience and strength radiating from the meditating Waterbender, who still refused to turn and face him, and he did not move from his place less than two long strides behind her. He didn't know how long he stood there, listening to her deep, rhythmic breathing—_inhale…hold…exhale. Inhale…hold…exhale._ It was like listening to the rush of the ocean as it passed over the shore, and Zuko felt himself drifting on a sea of serenity.

"Since your uncle left, I've been sitting here, thinking," Katara's mellow voice made Zuko open his drooping eyelids, "about the time on the cursed island."

His heart lurched. So she _did_ remember—but how much? What was he supposed to say in response? What did she want to hear? What was he supposed to do? Apologize for letting her kiss him? Maybe she wanted him to kiss her now. His heart began a thunderous hammering as he struggled for a dignified retort.

But the Water girl didn't give him a chance to speak. "I didn't remember what had happened…how I got back to that waterfall or how I ended up…doing certain things…" her soft, measured words were spoken hesitantly, "But I do now. I think I figured it all out."

The line of her shoulders tightened. "It was you, wasn't it? You saved me from…something. Something that nearly got you killed." Her head tilted up, but she still faced away from him. "Why did you do it, Zuko? Why did you save me when you could have run?"

He was glad that she wasn't looking at him. If she had been, she would have seen the answer in his eyes.

_Because I had to! Because I think I'm in love with you but damn it, I don't know anymore! You confuse me and make me angry and sad and happy all at the same time and I don't know what to do about it! I feel like an idiot, and it feels great, but gods, I think I'm going to drown in my own idiocy! I saved you because I had to! I had to! Because, because, because…_

His mouth felt like it was full of sand and he had to clamp it shut to keep a desert from pouring out. He could say none of these things. Moreover, he wouldn't. Ever. He could not give her this, his confession, his soul. He would give this girl nothing if he got nothing in return. He didn't think there was anything left in him to give…

"I wouldn't be here…_alive_ right now if it wasn't for you." She turned her head slightly, giving him a view of her delicate, downcast profile. He could see every eyelash delineated by the glow of the candles, one of her hair loops hanging enticingly against her cheek. Zuko clenched his jaw. He longed to reach out and tuck it behind her ear, brush a thumb against her soft skin…

His fantasy shattered as she added, "I wouldn't be here…ready to defeat you."

"You really think you will beat me, _peasant_?" Zuko found his arrogance and latched on, layering it on thick, armouring his thinning defences. "Even hand to hand, your brother couldn't land a blow on me if I had both arms tied behind my back. What, you think your fancy new clothes will save you?" He pointed at the ugly green dress hanging over the back of a chair. "I bet that's not even fireproof."

"No." Katara stood and turned to face him, rising to her feet smoothly. Zuko actually flinched at the set of her jaw, the look of cold determination carved into her dusky soapstone features. Her bright, sharp blue eyes seemed to glow.

She regarded him for an interminable moment, the expanse between them spanning a century of warfare and an ocean's worth of distance. She seemed to study him with the exactness of a gemologist appraising a diamond in the rough before declaring it of the first water—the clearest, the brightest, the highest quality. Zuko held his breath under her gaze. For some inexplicable reason, he felt utterly naked.

That thought alone brought a surge of heat to his cheeks. Mortified that he was actually blushing in front of her, he looked away.

Then, Katara's features relaxed, almost in relief, her eyes softening in the dim candlelight. It was, Zuko thought belatedly, as though some great conflict had finally ceased for her, or some burden of decision had been removed. Her lips twitched up, their softness in the gold hue of firelight making him swallow dryly. She took a step forward.

"Are you so certain you'll defeat me?" she asked quietly, radiating even greater strength in peace now.

Zuko stared hard at her, unsure of the game she was playing this time. He snarled, as if the sound would immunize him against her wiles, and asserted, "I will."

Katara took another step toward him. "If you're so sure, why are you fighting me?"

"You're the one who issued the challenge!" Zuko exclaimed indignantly. "I came here to try to talk you out of the Agni Kai and make life easier for yourself and your brother. Do you really want to be thrown into the brig covered in burns, dishonoured and defeated?" The prince struggled to regain control of his voice, which had wavered into a near-panicked squeal.

"You won't do that, Zuko." Hearing his name spoken in such dulcet tones made his resolve melt. "You won't hurt me."

"Of course I will," he rasped, his voice faltering. The Firebender felt her nearness as she approached and planted his feet firmly, refusing to step back. Gods, she was beautiful, he thought, berating himself for being so vulnerable to a mere girl. He hadn't seen her in days. Her delicate beauty and robust will had become that much more potent in that time apart, it seemed. "You know I'll hurt you." The words felt as though they were being dredged up from somewhere deep inside.

"No," Katara stopped inches away, staring straight into his face. "You won't."

"What makes _you_ so sure?" Zuko sneered in an effort to hide the emotions, the urges, threatening to strangle his heart. His hands clenched, fingers flexing at his side.

"Because—" Katara's eyes flickered over his face and down to his lips "—you like me."

Zuko's feet were bolted to the ground, but he swayed a little in that small, dark room, unsure of where his pendulous momentum would take him—stumbling backwards to the safety of the cool steel bulkhead, or pitching forward into the overwhelmingly enticing Water girl. If he was lucky, he might just faint and fall to the side.

Instead, he found himself teetering, knew even before the words were out of his mouth that this was the wrong thing to say, but still he said it.

"You _flatter_ yourself, peasant," he hissed. "My only interest in you was as bait for the Avatar, nothing more. I may have lost my honour, but I do have some mercy, so I came here to _graciously_ offer you and your pathetic brother a way out of the affairs of the Fire Nation. If you think—"

She stepped into his personal space, cutting off his tirade as her soft, curved front brushed up against his hard, masculine one.

"You like me," she asserted huskily. "You said it yourself." Katara's hand slipped around his neck as she closed the space between them, pressing her length against his body, which had been shocked into rigidity. She smiled wryly. "No take-backsies."

The first kiss was so brief, so sweet and fleeting, he swore he'd imagined it. The ghost of her lips on his would flutter away on his next exhalation…only, it didn't come.

"That's to say thank you," Katara whispered, her own breathing shallow, "for saving my life."

Zuko had run out of air. It wasn't enough. Not nearly enough. His whole being cried for more. He could feel the rise and fall of her chest, the warmth of her tiny thumb brazenly trailing over his flexing jaw. Her other hand rested lightly on his upper arm, squeezing his bicep just a little. His senses burned with her scent, her body, her heat. His whole world had suddenly narrowed to this moment, this tiny space they occupied and the infinitely tinier spaces in between them.

In the space of a heartbeat, her hazy, dream-filled eyes, big, beautiful, and indescribably blue, took on the hard, desperate quality of someone who _needed_. They bore into his soul, pleaded, begged, judged, scorched, brightened and burned him as though he were a dry leaf dancing above a raging bonfire. She had a fire all her own, he could almost taste it and knew he would if she granted him access in that next, awful, wonderful moment.

"Zuko…" She breathed tremulously, and he couldn't help himself. He leaned closer, moistening his lips, his eyes fluttering closed with anticipation.

"Zuko…" Katara whispered again, her lips nearer, her hot breath fanning over his skin. He bit back a moan, and found his hands had managed to fumble their way around her waist, clutching at the folds of her robe, her firm flesh burning beneath the cloth.

Her lips brushed his once more, languorous, tasting.

Something inside him exploded. Suddenly there was nothing else. He pulled her against him, hot mouth pressing against hers, wet and hard, the contact brief, experimental, but addictively thrilling. Nothing else mattered just now except that he _feel, _and he dipped his lips in once, twice, again, each tentative taste of her mouth bolder than the last

What had started as a gentle exploration morphed into something altogether different. Katara's response was almost violent as she opened and plunged her tongue in to mate with his. It soon became a battle of wills, of who would dominate the other. She clung to him possessively, her fingers working up his shoulders, one hand cupping the bare base of his scalp, soothing a path up the shorn curve to the base of his top knot, fingering the silken strands. Zuko was shocked by her eagerness, his own intentions and amorous ministrations escalating the more she took from him.

An animalistic growl rumbled through him, and he realized with a shock that they'd _both_ made it. That _feeling_ overwhelmed him, and his knees weakened, threatening the drag him down to the ground, taking Katara with him. At the same time, his feet were stumbling around, dragging and following her farther into the room…toward the bed.

In that horrible, wonderful moment, he knew that if she asked, he would give up the Avatar, give up his country, his honour, his throne—_anything_ she asked for would be hers if only she would stay with him like this forever; stay like this and show him everything else a life with her had to offer.

He _wanted,_ and he wanted badly, and even if she denied him the carnal pleasures his teenage body was screaming for, he knew he would not be disappointed because this was Katara, the real Katara, not some faker from some perverse game she played. And at the moment, she was his.

And somehow, more importantly, he knew he was hers.

For the time it took the brain to realize a star had just fallen out of the heavens, Prince Zuko of the Fire Nation let go of everything he was, and he didn't know or care what would come next.

So he let the end come on a roll of thunder.

And lightning.

Reality was a hard, sharp sting, an immunizing needle against the fever that scorched his soul. The taste of girl still lingered in his senses, the heat of the Waterbender's palms branding his skin. He pulled away, lifting his chin, gold eyes wavering hazily. He hadn't seen that first strobe, but he did hear the deep, distant rumble. He thought it was the engine starting up or his own lurching heart pumping liquid fire through his veins; but no, it was thunder. 

Another flash lit the awning window and Zuko, still clinging to the trembling Water girl, felt his heart stop and freeze over with dread.

Thunder. Lightning.

Rain.

The Agni Kai would begin. Now.

He looked down at Katara, her eyes heavy-lidded and glassy, her lips still parted, bereft of his touch, one that had barely been administered. She looked awed and frightened and, gods above, _wanton_. Zuko licked his lips and watched her lashes flutter at the sight, so close but not close enough.

"It hasn't started raining yet," Katara said urgently, barely above a whisper.

Zuko gripped her arms, remembering himself. "Revoke the challenge, Katara. You're the only one who can. We don't have to fight…" He reached up to touch her delicate cheek.

Her face fell. The next words came out on a choke. "I…I can't…"

Tenterhooks of anguish snagged at his heart. "Why not?" His voice cracked and he nearly shook her with exasperation.

But her expression shuttered. She looked into his face, eyes sparking with a potpourri of chaotic teenage emotion, and Zuko realized what she was saying, but didn't understand.

"Please, Zuko," she begged quietly. "Let Aang and Sokka go."

Ice raced through his veins. He released her and stepped away, his outraged refusal plain in his wide, yellow eyes, the heated rebuff unable to slide past his branded tongue.

"It hasn't started raining yet," she repeated softly, resigned. "Please…just make me believe it's real…" Her voice broke and faded. A tear rolled down her cheek as she leaned in again, her arms coiling around his middle. He was helpless against her touch, and just stood there as shock rocked through him. She hugged him tightly, her face buried in the crook of his neck. She gasped against him, hot breath feathering his pulse. "…Let the Avatar go free…and I'll stay with you. Forever."

Something inside him twisted and warped and strained against his entire being, a coil of tension wire ready to snap, a suspension bridge twisting in the gale of emotion. Anger, hurt, rage, grief…they heaved through him on a wild torrent, and yet his blood still boiled for her, his body yearning to merge with hers, his soul still crying to take her and make her his alone.

He could feel waves of energy pushing and pulling at him, the dual nature of his opposite in the Water Tribe girl both repulsing him and drawing him in, so much so that his internal war actually made him sway on the spot. What Katara offered him was not just herself…but a completely different life from the one he'd ever imagined, the one he'd only ever known.

And it was a gift that he would not, could not accept.

He despaired.

Those chaotic emotions funnelled through him, distilling into a potent drop of rage. But his wrath, under duress of his other stronger feelings he dared not name, failed him in this desperate moment when he could have gotten away, could have gone into the Agni Kai with a clear conscience.

Zuko let out a cry in anguish and hauled the Water girl closer, hoping to hurt her, to punish her. Their mouths crashed angrily, ravenously, but he could only taste the bitter tang of remorse.

On the next breath, he tore away from her, lips bruised, sick to his stomach, raw and numb with conflict. He stumbled back and turned away.

"I…I have to go." The room spun around him as he headed for the door. "I have to go," he repeated unsteadily. "The Agni Kai rules…penalty of death."

"You can't be caught here or you could be executed," Katara echoed in understanding, her voice thick and strangled.

Zuko nodded, unable to meet her eyes. What had he—what had _they _done? He blindly made his way out.

She stopped him at the door. "Why'd you even risk it? Why'd you do it?"

Zuko forced himself to meet her eye. She looked wholly vulnerable, a lone figure standing in that suddenly too-big room, dark blue eyes shining with tears. He wanted nothing more than to go back to her, to kiss away everything that hurt her, that hurt him, and never have to feel alone or helpless ever again.

Instead, he drew himself up, remembered he was a prince, and put every question she'd ever asked behind his response.

"Because…I had to."

He bolted.


	26. Chapter 26

* * *

**Chapter Twenty-Six**

* * *

Katara slumped down on the futon and clutched her pillow for comfort. Her whole frame shook with nervous, elated, fearful shudders and she leaned her head back against the cool wall, willing her heart to slow down. Her skin tingled all over, felt like it was too loose in places and too tight in others. She wanted to crawl right out of herself, like a moulting snake shedding its upper layers, in the hopes that there'd be a different Katara beneath her hair and flesh: one that hadn't been touched—branded—the way she had been, body and soul.

She licked her swollen lips, still tasting that peculiarly tantalizing flavour that she would forever call "Zuko." Words could not describe the feeling rushing through her the moment she recognized the taste of him, harsh and sweet and salty and bitter all at the same time. It was alien and new, but nostalgic, too, and breathtakingly wonderful…but under it all, it was awful, heart-wrenching, because with that first touch of her lips, she at last understood what futility was.

But it wasn't just kissing Zuko that had put her into this state of shock. (It hit her again with the same force: Kissing Zuko! Dear gods, why her?) The crush of responsibility—the imminent Agni Kai, freeing the Avataress's trapped soul, springing Aang and Sokka from the brig—bore down on her, like the lightning god's hammer blow. The world as she knew it was going to end, and she was barrelling headfirst into the unknown to be swallowed whole by Zuko, by the Fire Nation…maybe even by death. None of them would escape unscathed. She'd already been irrevocably changed by one silly whim…one lapse in her resolve to fight her selfish desire…

What was she doing playing these grown-up games of war and seduction? She was only fourteen. It was only a few months ago that she and Aang had gone penguin sledding in the pristine snows of her homeland.

…_You still are a kid! _He'd hollered as they tore up the slopes.

She _was_ just a kid, dammit! Spirits above, what had she gotten herself into?

It was unfair. It was all so unfair. An angry, pained sob choked her and she swiped at the treacherous tears flowing down her cheeks. Minutes ago, she'd been so sure of herself, knew what the right thing to do was, but now that it came down to the wire…

"This is all your fault," she cursed petulantly. She snatched the hand mirror from the drawer in the bedside table where she'd put it for safe keeping. Karanna looked elatedly back at her.

_You're almost there!_ she exclaimed excitedly. _I can feel the bonds loosening._ She looked around her wondrously. _I had doubts, but now…_

"The Agni Kai is going to happen any minute now," Katara interrupted, regaining some of her composure. Her raw emotions iced over, her cool tenacity a temporary balm to the gaping hole Zuko had left. "I'm going to go out there and finish this. This is it."

Karanna's face furrowed. _You don't have to do this—_

A tapping on the glass caught the Waterbender's attention. She opened the window and Bai-Bai hopped in with an excited cry.

_Everything is in place. The timing couldn't have been better, _Karanna translated, a little agitated.

Katara pursed her lips. It had to be now, then. There would be no better opportunity. If she could just keep Zuko and the crew occupied long enough, the bounty hunters Witch had "employed" would have a chance to break Aang and maybe even Sokka out of the brig, and then she could rescue them from the hunters…

She listened to the crow spirit's rasping growl. _Also, your lemur is safe with Witch. He managed to escape from Zuko's room, _the Avataress said.

Her heart felt a little lighter. At least one of them would be okay.

_It's not too late, _Karanna reminded her gently. _You can still back out of this. You don't need to put yourself through the fire duel. You have a real chance now to break Zuko's heart, to set me free—_

"I won't back out now," Katara said. "Witch has got her part of the plan set up. Hasn't she?" She looked inquisitively at Bai-Bai, who bobbed his head a little hesitantly.

The woman in the mirror made a frustrated sound. _Katara, don't you see? Zuko loves you and you love him! You may not have said it out loud, but the tether doesn't lie. I can sense your feelings…both of you. I don't want to see you get hurt!_

"Kind of late for that, aren't you?" The Waterbender sent a withering look at the woman in the mirror. She slipped her hand over her aching heart, wondering why the anguish seemed so fresh just then. "And if I recall, you were the one who said that Zuko kissing me wasn't the same as Zuko loving me. Just because we did, doesn't mean we do."

_I know what I said…but that was before I got that jolt while you were in that lip lock. _The Avataress's mouth tightened. She pleaded, _If you still insist on doing this, I can help you, Katara. Open up to me. I can protect you. I won't hurt anyone the way you think I will—I know you're afraid, but you have to trust me. You have your whole life ahead of you._

Something in Katara wanted desperately to hand over the reins to the Lady Avatar. It would be so much easier to take a backseat to the Agni Kai and not have to live through it. Especially not after what she and Zuko—

She wasn't sure whether or not to laugh or cry or scream out loud. What had made her kiss him? _Really_ kiss him? Her brain had felt clouded as soon as he'd entered her room, warm all over, tingly with anticipation. It had set off all kinds of alarm bells in her head, and yet, she'd still invited him in, even daring him to close the door.

She'd thought she'd been executing some brilliant tactic, playing with his mind. She'd known the whole time that Iroh was talking with her that the prince had been standing outside her door. She'd known he'd lurked outside her room a good twenty minutes before entering. She'd decided it would be an opportune time to lull him into…into what? All her scheming and conniving had fallen flat as soon as he'd crossed the threshold. She'd simply reacted…gone with what her instincts had told her…

She didn't know what she was doing anymore, or even why she'd strung Zuko along the way she had all this time. She was dragging him through all kinds of emotional hell, and she'd let herself go along for the ride, even after she'd decided she didn't want to do any of that. He didn't deserve it…

Was this what it was to be a teenage girl? She'd heard people say things that struck her as sexist: _women like to play games,_ they'd say, even though men did the same_. They flirt, they tease, they lead you on…_

Well, whatever game this was now, she didn't like it, and she did not want to play anymore.

But the Agni Kai was still going to happen. She couldn't go out there and just drop it. If she did, where would that leave her? To spend a few more hours making out with the Prince of the Firebenders?

A toe-curling whorl of desire spiralled through her, making her catch her breath. What a kiss! The temptation to do just that and call Zuko back to her room… She stamped that thought out quickly. It was ridiculous to think she could have enjoyed a kiss with prince broody mood! But…

In her heart she knew she was just trying to convince herself that she _didn't_ feel something for him...and now she ached for what she was putting him through…what she would put him through…

_It's confusing, isn't it?_ Karanna asked, pity in her eyes. _Love, I mean._

Katara looked away. "I don't _love_ him." She bit her lower lip and dashed her tears away. This wasn't love. Love didn't hurt so much.

_Open up to me,_ Karanna implored one last time. _Let me take over. I can spare you both the pain…_

"No." Katara shook her head. "I have to do this myself."

Bai-Bai cawed softly, mournfully. A low rumble of thunder rolled across the heavens.

Feeling leaden, she slowly and carefully began donning the Kyoshian dress, slipping on the leather armour with extra care and cinching the cuffs tightly around her forearms. It seemed appropriate, this warrior's garb with the colours she was not accustomed to wearing. She would go out there and wouldn't be fighting as Katara of the Southern Water Tribe, but as Katara the warrior, given the Mark of the Brave. It seemed she'd need every drop of courage she could muster to face Zuko now.

It looked like the rain hadn't started just yet, but the air was thick with moisture, and the wind began a desolate keen. Lightning flashed, and heavy rolls of thunder tumbled indolently after, louder, nearer. Bai-Bai's stark silhouette against the long awning window reminded Katara of an old folk legend about crows leading the spirits of the dead to the Spirit World. She wasn't even sure if she'd heard the tale, or if it was some fanciful imagining of her own, but at that chilling moment, Bai-Bai turned to stare at her over his feathered shoulder, his pitch-black eyes shining with a despondent, meaningful look. Her skin prickled.

_It's going to be quite a storm, _Karanna commented. When Katara didn't respond, engrossed with re-braiding her hair more tightly, she went on. _I am here for you, Katara. You don't need a mirror to see or hear me. You've always been able to look inside yourself to see me, see the truth, see it all. You just haven't done that much lately. _

Katara closed her eyes, setting the hairbrush down. In her mind, she could almost make out the figure of a woman, long brown tresses framing her dark face.

_If you need me, I'll know. But please, don't push me away, _Karanna pleaded

"Katara?"

She opened her eyes and turned. General Iroh stood in her doorway, his face grim, his clothes glistening with flecks of silvery rain. "It's time."

_I'm with you,_ Karanna's final whisper washed over her, like a mother's cool hand stroking her hair,

Katara's eyes dried. An eerie stillness settled within her.

"I'm ready."

* * *

The thing about hand-paddled canoes is they're quiet. Manua learned this from a Water Tribesman, who had told him about lion-whale hunting expeditions. It was a fascinating ritual: Because lion-whales were too fast to catch in the water and too large and ferocious on land, hunters would have to silently sneak up on their enormous prey. The Water Tribesmen would circle the great beasts with canoes, then close in gradually, snaring the behemoth before harpooning it.

Of course, Manua reasoned, the problem with hunting a lion-whale is that you need a lot of men to catch one, and if you don't want to share the meat, well, you'd be better off fishing on your own. But lion-whale was a tasty delicacy, and a single adult bull would feed the village for weeks. As far as any hunter involved was concerned, it was worth it.

Ten canoes, each manned by two men, slid through the churning waters, their paddles dipping and pulling in time with the lapping of the waves against the shore. The rain had just started, but it was already beating a steady tattoo over the mottled, dark grey canvas covers hiding the men and the boats—camouflage to blend in with the sea. Anyone looking at them would have to stare long and hard to actually think they saw something, and by then, it'd be too late.

The bounty hunter peeked out again, readjusting his course to point directly at the Fire Prince's moored ship in the cove, a hazy black shape in the misty, rainy night. The rest followed suit. Soon, they pulled up against the hull of the huge steel ship, flanking either side. Manua let forth a soft, hollow trill, the signal for the others to prepare to board. The return call came: all ready.

For the first time in a long while, Manua actually felt nervous. He prayed Bori the tavern keeper had not been wrong about the Avatar being aboard the exiled prince's ship. Three days of surveillance had produced no indication that the Airbender was on the ship, though the men had discovered that there was a Waterbender aboard. She'd been spotted practicing her bending on the deck, though by all accounts, she was not very powerful.

The Thinker considered her presence carefully, but decided she was not much of a threat. If the rumours were true, this might have been the Fire prince's ex-girlfriend, recently captured by a retired hunter who'd bought himself a fishing boat with his reward. And if the rest of the retiree's story held true, that meant the little bald monk she'd been travelling with was nearby, too. That had to be the Avatar. It was only hearsay evidence, but it was enough for Manua.

He filed the Waterbender girl away as one of the hostage possibilities in case things went down river…or, if she were pretty enough, as another reward if this venture proved successful.

High above, the deck suddenly began to glow with warm orange firelight. His world for the past hour had been all shades of darkness—grey and brown and green and black—and the intensity of those hazy licks of flame were such a joyful relief to his cold-numbed senses. His eyes drank in the vivid color flickering in the rain, but he shook its hypnotic effect off and signalled for everyone to hold. Torches were being lit all along the perimeter of the ship, and if anyone looked over the railing now, they would have to hightail it out of there.

No one spotted them. He released a held breath, wiping a trickle of rain—or was it sweat?—from his brow. This mission would succeed, as all the others before him had. He was nothing, if not relentless and adaptable. Things went wrong all the time, after all, and he'd always managed to cope, especially if the reward was great enough. In this instance, the rewards would be phenomenal and, he hoped, well worth the risk. This was certainly one of the most risky bounties he'd ever gone after—that any of the twenty men on this excursion had ever pursued, in fact.

By the spirits, if Bori had been wrong, there were going to be a lot of crispy bounty hunters to bury.

* * *

Zuko fumbled the ties of his pants, hands trembling. The last time he'd put these on had been in his duel against Zhao, and it felt like they didn't fit right anymore. How long ago had that been? Surely his strict diet and intense exercise routine hadn't made him gain or lose any weight, and he was mostly over his growth spurt, or so he thought. Nervously, he adjusted the waistband, trying to decide if he was losing his mind, or if he really did have to call a tailor in, because these Agni Kai pants just weren't comfortable!

He pursed his lips fitfully. They felt swollen and bruised, even though that kiss had barely been a sufficient one to injure him.

That kiss! He grunted at the punch-in-the-gut feeling he got, remembering the taste of Katara's mouth, her gentle warmth, her soft curves moulding against his body… He shook himself, and his arousal subsided. That kiss had been everything, meant the world to him…but it was nothing…just another stupid game, he told himself harshly…

So why was he having such a hard time believing that?

He stood a long time, staring in the mirror, his vision blurred, barely registering his reflection. He looked at himself and didn't know what he was seeing. A head, his eyes, a scar…strangely unfamiliar features that didn't look like they belonged to him. Who was this looking back at him?

"Prince Zuko?"

"What?" He was startled by his Uncle's voice. The old man was standing just inside the doorway, pale and grim looking.

"The Agni Kai is going to begin shortly. Your opponent is already on deck, awaiting your arrival." He stepped toward him, the silk Agni Kai standard hanging limply in his hands. Zuko stared at it as if were a dead cat and he moved away from his Uncle, feeling nauseous.

"You don't want to do this," Iroh confirmed with infuriating equanimity.

Zuko avoided looking at his elderly relative, wishing he could say yes, wishing he could tell him about the moment he'd just had in Katara's room, wishing he could express the fear and dread that had pooled in his stomach and had made his hands turn to ice.

"I don't," he intoned lowly, "but I will." He swallowed thickly. "She brought this on herself." Shame washed through him as he said it, a caustic tonic that seeped into every part of his being, but a stab of red-hot pride evaporated it. Katara _had_ brought this upon herself, and he had done all he could to turn her from the treacherous path she'd chosen. But his guilt and disgrace welled slowly inside him, filling every corner of his mind and body with torpid, festering doubt.

Without another word, he shucked his tunic, dropping it haphazardly on the floor, exposing his bare chest to the damp air. He shivered, though a fine sheen of cool sweat stood out on his skin, hot to the touch. Iroh moved behind him and draped the light fabric over his shoulders.

"She is not ready for this, Zuko," Iroh said quietly, arranging the standard. "You will defeat her, but how you choose to do it is up to you."

He looked up as his uncle stepped away, catching his reflection: he was supposed to see a hardened young man ready to fight for his honour. But all he saw was a half-naked him with a piece of cloth over his shoulders.

Too distracted by the churning in his stomach, he felt a prod to his side and he moved automatically out of his room, slowly heading down the stairs to the main deck, passing a few soldiers who saluted him solemnly.

How could he possibly go through with this now? How could she? What had just happened in that room? Zuko didn't always trust his instincts, but his senses didn't lie to him—that kiss had been something, something potent and real and, for lack of a less cliché word, _magical._ That magnetic feeling in his gut gravitated toward her, even as he stepped out into the open.

The abrupt chill that cut into him was unexpected, but he schooled himself not to shudder. The wind lashed a fine, cold rain over his shoulders and down his bare back and chest. He scanned the scene before him.

Torches ringed the whole deck, casting a flickering orange light upon the water-logged steel. Katara was crouched alone in the ready position at the other end of the deserted metal dueling field, her ugly green dress snapping wetly about her in the wind. The standard draped—or rather, plastered down by the rain—over her shoulders was a plain grey rather than red, gold and black, denoting her obeisance to a different god. Agni would not smile on her in this fight.

A flash of blue-white lightning nearby was chased by a deafening crash of thunder, and the rain began pouring down in earnest.

"Remember your basics, Zuko," Iroh reminded him over the howl of the storm. Water streamed down from the old man's hair and forehead, flowing down the lines in his face and sopping into his beard. "And…try to remember that she's not a Firebender."

How could he possibly forget? Nodding numbly, he glanced once more at Katara's crouched form, then pivoted and kneeled down, letting the rain water wash over him.

The toll of a gong heralded the beginning of the end.

* * *

She rose smoothly to her feet and turned, shedding the standard, hearing it slop to the ground with a wet smack. Katara took a moment to adjust to the full view of Zuko's bare chest, sculpted ivory glowing faintly orange with torchlight, like a burnished copper statue against the gunmetal grey of the ship and the sky. Even under these deadly circumstances, she felt a flutter of heat curl below her belly, but now was not the time to be entertaining licentious thoughts.

Above, on the observation deck, she could discern a number of soldiers had gathered to witness the deadly duel. She imagined others peered through the various awning windows racing up and down the tower. To the crew, this was a spectator sport with only one outcome…but curiosity had gotten the better of them.

Good. She would need to keep them preoccupied. And she would definitely give them a show.

_Are we really going to do this?_ She wondered desolately.

Anxiety pierced through her. Her stomach roiled queasily. She thought she was dizzy, but it was just the rocking of the ship, heaving beneath the waves. Cold rain sluiced down her face. Her joints ached from crouching in the ready position for so long, but she shut it all out, focusing all her strength and her only objective.

_I'm here with you, _Karanna's voice echoed softly in her mind. _Don't push me away._

She held on to the Avataress's words with a viselike grip in her mind, wrenching the temptation to submit to her away.

Did Karanna understand why she didn't accept her help? Maybe she did, Katara thought. Because it wasn't just stubborn pride that held her back, or even her fear of the ancient Waterbender's destructive potential.

It was because Katara had to do this on her own. She had to win or lose against Zuko herself, and only as herself. She owed it to him to be the real Katara, for once. And she owed it to herself.

_Zuko. This is for you._

She braced herself, feeling the water all around her; her element, her turf. She reached out for that tendril of connection between her and the prince, sensing him move slowly and carefully across the deck in a firm defensive stance. He was waiting for her to make the first move.

She moved.

* * *

The water whip was fast, and Zuko barely dodged it as it snapped in the space between his shoulder and ear. He danced to the side as Katara recoiled the water snake, readying it for another strike. He sent out a barrage of fire balls, being careful not to actually hit her.

_Why? I could have this over with in ten seconds!_

She moved out of the range of his attacks, gliding smoothly over the water pooling on the deck. She thrust her hands out, and a razor-like wave careened toward him. Zuko countered with a flaming jet that evaporated the attack, but realized it was quite difficult to maintain the flame in this torrential downpour.

It was then he realized she actually had a slight advantage over him…but not enough of one to defeat him.

The Waterbender whipped her hands up and circled around in a tight motion, bringing a wall of water up. She pushed out and the wave came crashing down upon him. But the attack hadn't injured him, just made him wet.

And a little annoyed.

He dodged two more water whips, rolling out of the way, but had yet to launch his own offensive. Why was he hesitating? He should just…he could end this….

_I can't…_

_Yes you can. You have to. Honour demands it._

Feeling the heat of his internal conflict boil up inside him, Zuko released a powerful gout of flame from his fists, strafing her path as she ran skittering from one side of the ship to the other. The fire licked at her robe, but it didn't catch. Steam fizzled off the metal deck from the heat of the blast, but the storm soon slicked the surface over once more.

Katara grabbed two water whips and lashed out, striking above and below simultaneously. Zuko barely parried her attack, but he could see she was already winded. Her clothes must have been heavy with all that rain soaking in, he thought.

"If you stand down and concede to defeat, I won't have to hurt you!" he yelled over the rain, startled by the desperation in his voice. No matter that she'd lose face and be forever branded a coward and without honour. Those things didn't matter to Water Tribe peasants as they might to him, or so he believed.

Her response came as a huge ball of water hurtling toward him. Bracing himself for another wet, splashy encounter, he realized his mistake a moment too late when the ball turned into a solid block of ice.

* * *

Manua wasn't sure what was going on deck—it looked like an Agni Kai duel, but he'd never seen one between benders from different nations. The important thing was that it had everyone's attention riveted. Perfect.

He climbed back down the side of the hull, his custom-made suction mitts _suck-popping_ against the slick, wet siding of the ship, the sound muted by the patter of the rain. Silently, he gestured at the canoes below to proceed. The men clambered deftly out of the covered water crafts, shimmying up the anchor rode with the speed and grace of monkey-coons.

Before anyone had the chance to look over the railing, ten men had slipped into the ship from the small opening leading to the anchor hold.

* * *

_"Oof!"_

Katara heard the Firebender grunt as he was hurled back by the force of the watermelon-sized ice ball. Something between a smirk and a wince twisted her features as he landed with a thud to the deck. The hope that she hadn't broken any ribs was a distant one in her mind.

Refusing to let up her offensive, she gathered her will together and inhaled, letting the arctic winds of her homeland fill her mind and her lungs. A long breath out made the floor ice over.

"I thought you weren't going to be beaten by a little girl!" Katara taunted highly, shouting over the wind at the prone prince. Bluster was good. Bravado would sustain her a little while longer, even as Zuko snorted a menacing plume of smoke as he got to his feet.

"You little peasant!" he growled, and took a step forward.

_That's right. I am not your friend._

His bare foot met the slippery, slushy deck and his leg buckled under. The Firebender stumbled and Katara struck. She gathered the falling rain, spinning it together like a skein of yarn until it was a huge rope of water. Using its own falling momentum, she fired off the canon of icy liquid. Zuko's yelp was drowned out by the sluice that slammed into him. As the torrent trickled off, he could be seen at the far end of the deck rising to his feet, water steaming off his alabaster skin, dark brows drawn together, ugly fury stamped into his pale face.

It was about time, she thought wryly. She didn't think it would take so long to get him worked up, considering his temperament.

Now came the hard part: Staying alive.

* * *

Manua had expected to encounter at least one member of the anchor detail on this stormy day when the anchor cable would likely suffer a lot of fouling, but it seemed most of the crew was aboveboard. They'd probably gone to watch that duel on deck. Good thing, too: The faster they could get in and out of the Fire Navy ship without being detected, the better.

Wordlessly, he directed the band of thieves to follow him and spread out. One team had to find the boiler room and the heating system that connected to it. The other had to locate the brig and take out as many of the soldiers guarding the Avatar as they could before any alarm could be sounded.

Assuming the Avatar was aboard.

They fanned out, and as the men scurried down the narrow, winding corridors snaking throughout the ship's belly, the Thinker could hear the satisfying sounds of surprised grunts and squeaks as crew members were dispatched with. Non-lethally, he hoped: the last thing any of them needed was to be wanted for murdering Fire Nation soldiers.

He turned the corner and ducked swiftly back, stopping the men following him with a gesture. Five Firebenders lined the short hallway that ended with a large, heavy door. If he wasn't mistaken, that would be the brig, and obviously, someone of importance was being held within.

Bingo.

He tied a bandana mask over his muzzle and the others followed suit. Manua silently accepted the powder-filled ball offered to him by one man, fitting the little opening at the top with a fuse while a third man lit a match. Manua peeked around the corner as the flame touched the fuse, counted to the very last minute then threw the ball in a perfect arc to land in the midst of the Firebenders.

He pulled the mask more tightly over his face as the spotted red-pine bomb exploded, filling the air with a sweet, reddish-coloured cloud of dusty smoke. The soldiers cried out and began coughing, the panicked scuffle of feet and shouts quickly tapering off into sluggish shuffles and slurred calls until one by one, each of the guards dropped off, falling into a heavy drug-induced slumber.

Spirits be praised! No alarm had been sounded.

But they couldn't barge in, not yet. For this to go smoothly, Manua had calculated, they had to wait for the signal.

So with the patience of monks, they waited.

* * *

"Ouch!" one soldier winced as the Waterbender's powerful whip lashed across Prince Zuko's front. "That's gotta smart."

But even from the observation deck, Lieutenant Jee could see the girl's fighting spirit and raw bending abilities would not be enough to defeat her formidable opponent. She was already tiring; her attacks were becoming weaker with every miss, and Prince Zuko hadn't even gone on the offensive yet.

"He's toying with her," Jee murmured thoughtfully. "Or stalling…"

"What for?" the soldier asked.

Jee didn't answer. Ever since the Waterbender had been captured, the prince had been distracted, unfocused and sloppy in his training. His moods were erratic (more so than usual), and he looked discomfited anytime the girl was near. It didn't take a genius to figure out what was going on with him: Zuko was, after a teenage boy.

But he kept his thoughts to himself. The mess-hall rumor mill did not need any more kindling.

"Sir?" one of the younger soldiers—Li was his name—interrupted his musings charily. "There's…there's something out on the water…I think."

"You _think?_" Jee arched an eyebrow at him. "You should be a hundred percent sure before you report anything amiss to a senior officer, Private Li," he rebuked the young man harshly. "No point in telling someone you _might_ have seen a ghost, now, is there?"

Some of the more seasoned soldiers sniggered. The young Private Li was so green, he was practically from the Earth Kingdom.

"Sir, yes, sir!" Li quipped smartly. Jee turned back to watch the duel. Ten seconds later, the young private piped up again.

"Sir?" Jee rolled his eyes. "There is _definitely _something in the water. It…it looks like…er…floating rocks, sir. No…wait…more like fabric. Like tarps…" Li said, squinting down at the water.

Irritated, Jee walked to Li's side of the platform, pushing the crowding soldiers aside, intent on assigning him to a week of deck swabbing for his impertinence. But Li pointed down at the churning seas with a steady hand, his unmasked face solemn and earnest. Jee sighted down the length of the boy's arm, staring hard at the water.

Through the night and the storm, he could just barely discern some oblong grey patches in the water, but they weren't rocks or animals. He watched them warily and saw one zip forward against the rough waters, propelled jerkily by…

"Paddles!" Jee shouted and swore as he counted off the shapes. "We've got five canoes! Sound the alarm! Intruders off the port side!"

"More on the starboard side, sir!" another soldier shouted from the other end. "I count five more canoes!"

The lieutenant grabbed the alarm bell and began clanging it violently, hoping to Agni the other soldiers could hear its peal above the wind and rain. "Sound the siren! We're under attack!"

"But what about the Agni Kai?" Li shouted, pointing at the young contenders below.

"Prince Zuko will have to finish the fight one way or another. By the rules, the duel can't be interrupted. Now, go inform General Iroh!"

* * *

Zuko wended his way closer and closer to the Waterbender, seeing the growing fear in her eyes, the desperation of her attacks. He threw two fiery punches directly at her and she barely deflected them with a thin shield of water, gasping as she stumbled backward.

_Pitiful. Weak._

Guilt pierced his chest, but he pressed on, the cold rain washing over his skin and soaking into his clothes. Icy water stung his eyes and he had to put more energy into heating himself and keeping his body temperature high to break the constant flow streaming over him.

"You can't win!" he shouted at her, and she renewed her attacks, sending up what were basically large splashes. They lapped at him ineffectually. "Just surrender already!"

"What? Are you getting tired already, your highness?" she shouted back, wild-eyed and panting.

"Don't make me do this!" he yelled, raising his fists.

Her arms shot up and she skittered two steps forward, the water she'd drawn upwards freezing into a wave of deadly needles. The cloud of icy projectiles darted forward, and Zuko hissed as the first, then the second, and a third sliced thin little cuts into his skin. He roared as one tiny icicle stabbed into his shoulder. The puncture was not deep, but it hurt like hell.

_Fine. If that's the way she wants it._

The Firebender gathered his power, focusing it into two hot points in his mind. From his hands, two blades of deadly fire emerged and he launched himself at her. She met him head-on, roaring a tiny lioness's cry in challenge.

She was fast, he'd give her that. She managed to evade his punches and kicks, dousing his fire sais out a number of times and skirting away when he nearly managed to get a grip on her. If he could end this hand-to-hand and make her submit, then she would be saved. She wouldn't have to endure the final, painful, humiliating blow that would signal the end of the fight. He wouldn't have to—

Then she kicked him hard in the shin. Zuko yelped and stumbled to one knee, shocked as much by the audacity of such a dirty trick as he was by her surprisingly swift, strong leg. He turned to stare at up her, and caught her wrist as her fist came hurtling down to land a blow to his jaw. He jerked her arm up and stood.

For a stilted moment, their eyes met. Zuko could feel her pulse quickening in the circle of his hand. Water plastered little curls of hair against her temples and flushed cheeks. Her mouth was parted, panting out puffs of cold air, those pink lips soft in the torchlight.

The rain raked cold little finger over his face, his shoulders, his very _naked_ chest. He wanted those fingers to be hers…

"Katara…" he found his voice, his courage, his honour. "We can end this. You don't have to—"

She kicked him in the other shin and he collapsed with a yowl.

His leg throbbed as she canted away and sent out a double lashing of water whips. Zuko rolled just in time, angry—and a little hurt—that she'd tricked him, angry that he'd allowed himself to be tricked, angry that he was so vulnerable to her.

Well, no more of that.

Again he dodged, the water whip missing its mark. The S-shaped formation was one of her most overused attacks, and he snidely wondered if she had any other tricks in her repertoire. She was so infuriatingly sure she could beat him, so hopelessly optimistic, it was _disgusting._

_Weak._

_Pathetic._

_Deceitful. _

_Stupid peasant wench._

_Play games with me, will she?_

He'd found his passion, his anger, and he held onto it with a heated death grip. On the next riposte, Zuko gathered his hate, his fury, and every modicum of irritation and exasperation he'd suffered at her hands, balling it up into a great wad of rage. With a roar, he launched a bright, hot, jet of flame from his outstretched hands—

That struck her squarely in the chest.

Time and space and air became molasses as he watched Katara reel backward, her startled cry cut off very suddenly. Her spine arched unnaturally high as the force of the blast lifted her off her feet...

…and over the railing, plunging her into the dark sea and oblivion.


	27. Chapter 27

**Even more beautiful fan art, this time by Zirofax! www. deviantart. com / deviation / 49943523/**

* * *

**Chapter Twenty-Seven**

* * *

"What do you mean it's _out of order?_" The ruffian growled at the engineer, pointing at the disassembled boiler and all the bits scattered around it. 

"I-it was taken apart for maintenance…w-we only j-just got the parts in and have barely p-put it b-back together," the diminutive Fire Nation grease monkey stuttered.

Disgusted, the big thug named Hung tossed the man aside with a mighty throw. The engineer hit the wall limply and slid down, unconscious.

"Whadda we do now?" one ratty little bounty hunter asked. "How are we supposed to get red pine into the ventilation if the boiler isn't working?"

The brute furrowed his brow. "That's Manua's problem, now," Hung grunted. "Raid the lower levels. Grab what you can before the fireworks start and get back to the others. I'll find Manua and the Avatar. Once we have him, we can get out of here before anyone notices something's wrong."

The men scattered like roaches in the light.

* * *

A sweet, heady whiff of something like that reminded him of incense tickled Sokka's nose. He wasn't sure what the scent was, but it was vaguely familiar, like something he'd dreamed of a long time ago…. 

"Does anyone else smell that?" he asked, yawning hugely.

Juno arched an eyebrow at him. "He who smelt it dealt it."

Ching sniggered. His face suddenly fell. "No, wait, I smell it, too."

Juno glanced at both of them. "Are you— Oh…" He inhaled. "Oooohh…" he leaned against the wall heavily. "That's…that's…."

"Red pine!" Ching said sharply. "Get away from the door! We're under attack!"

Juno swore and groggily stumbled away from the door, dragging his spear with him. He shook his head to clear the haze. "Are you sure?"

"It's a bounty hunter tactic. They use spotted red pine bombs to put people to sleep and make off with their prey." He pulled a square of cloth from a pocket and wetted it down with water from a canteen, then quickly removed his faceplate and helmet and tied it around his face. Juno followed suit, blinking sleep out of his eyes and slapping himself lightly, all too aware of the danger of succumbing to the gas seeping into the brig. They both replaced their helmets and took up defensive stances by the door to Aang's cell.

Sokka watched them, anticipation and fear unwinding in his gut. Someone was here to rescue them! This had to be what Katara meant when she said she'd get them out of here…

So why was he so worried?

"Whatever happens, do not let anyone take the Avatar!" Ching said harshly.

"Hey! What about me?" the Water boy cried indignantly.

"Keep as far back as possible, Sokka. In fact, just take a nap. If you're lucky, this'll all be over when you wake up." The man's voice was distinctly grim. "There are five more soldiers in the corridor beyond that door. They'll be able to handle the intruders."

He didn't sound convinced of that assertion, though.

"It'll be okay, Sokka," Juno said evenly, his torpor gone. He glanced briefly at the young warrior in reassurance, the white skull faceplate impassive. "Trust me."

There was no way Sokka was going to sleep through this. Following the Fire Nation soldiers' example, he tore a piece of the thin blanket in his cell and poured the cold remnants of his dinner soup onto it, then tied it around his face. Okay, so it smelled fishy, but at least he wouldn't pass out from the red pine gas.

They waited with bated breaths. For several drawn-out moments, no sound came from the other side of the door.

And then an explosion rocked the ship.

* * *

The ship juddered violently, sending everyone aboveboard sprawling to their knees. Shouts of alarm and the wail of a siren screamed into the darkness and the storm. 

But Zuko barely registered the symphony of chaos all around him. The insensate prince heard nothing, saw nothing but that empty space where Katara had stood not a half second earlier. His heart, inured to disappointment and betrayal, jagged with unspent emotion, pumping fire through his whole being that entirely failed to warm him.

And then all he felt was the slap of his bare feet against the freezing deck as he ran full-tilt and vaulted over the rail.

The briefest sensation of pure freedom gripped him as he plunged down, down, down, before the riotous sea claimed him in her frigid, smothering embrace. He darted in like an arrow, feeling the oppressive calm beneath the churning waves, his bare skin burning with the arctic waters. Belatedly, he realized he'd been lucky: the water was just deep enough here that he hadn't cracked his skull open on the gravelly bottom of the cove. But had Katara survived the fall?

Well, of course she had, Zuko told himself.

The murk pressing in on him revealed nothing. He groped through the dark, his eyes stinging in the seawater as he frantically searched for the Water Tribe girl. Her green robes would make her doubly difficult to find in these depths, and he thrice cursed their camouflaging color, swearing to burn them when he found her…

If he found her.

Long seconds passed as he searched the water for Katara. His muscles throbbed and stung, and his lungs screamed for air, but Zuko refused to give up. Ten more seconds underwater and he'd find her, ten more seconds and he'd be able to haul her back to the ship…

Air burst from his mouth and the sea rushed into his gaping maw. He kicked up, his head breaking the surface, and he gasped in frustration as he heaved in huge lungfuls of air, swallowing and choking on brackish seawater. A quick look around the tumultuous dark told him Katara was not floating nearby. He shouted her name, a tiny, feeble cry against the roar of the tempest and the surge of the surf. Lightning flashed, limning the ominous shape of his ship towering above him, but still he did not see the Waterbender.

He dove under once again, struggling to remain calm. He would find her. That was how these things worked: he would find her and the Agni Kai would be over and they could go back to the way things were…

A strong arm wrapped around his waist and hauled him upwards. Katara! He twisted, but the viselike grip around his naked torso was definitely not the petite Waterbender's. He thrashed about, the tightly-wound fear in his gut finally starting to uncurl, but as he broke the surface once more, he saw it was one of his soldiers who'd dived in after him, a rope tethering him to the vessel looming above.

"Let go of me!" he shouted. "The girl—"

The man's arm tightened, squeezing the air out of his chest and cutting him off as they were hauled up the side like a fisherman's prize catch. The water rushed away from him. In a dizzying instant, Zuko felt half a dozen hands on him, pulling him onto the deck until he thudded unceremoniously onto his side, coughing and rasping for breath.

"How dare you interfere!" he rasped savagely. Rain and seawater streamed off his skin, his face and hands icy from the plunge, his eyes burning. He stood shakily and staggered back toward the railing, but the hands pulled him away, and voices pleaded with their prince to give up, to stop his madness. He shoved at them ineffectually, screaming profanities at the men who tried to stop him, desperate to find Katara, to bring her back, to finish what they'd started, to join her—

"ZUKO!" Iroh's shout boomed over the thunder. "We're under attack! The Agni Kai is over! You've won!" That last declaration was not a commendation, but a scathing reprimand.

The prince struggled out of the soldiers' hold and spun to face his uncle, unbound rage making every sinew on his body stand out with the stress of his full-body clench. "This fight is not over!" he yelled, turning his fury on the old man, sopping wet in the rain.

Wrath and sorrow fought for dominance on Iroh's pale, deeply lined features, but his mouth only gaped open and closed, unable or unwilling to speak the next soul-crushing proclamation. His butter-coloured eyes hardened into two cold stones. His voice cracked. "Zuko…"

Zuko's heart told him no, no, no, no, no way was she gone…he had not killed her. He had not—

A roar, not of fire or saltpeter or thunder, but of _water_, split the air, drowning out the hammering of the rain slanting across the deck.It was the deafening rush of a flash flood, swift and sudden and vicious, a surging of liquid destruction, of the breaking of a dam, of a tsunami come to sweep them all into oblivion.

Everyone looked up.

Riding a waterspout that coiled around her narrow hips like a serpent's tail, the petite Waterbender arose from the depths like a female leviathan, arms outstretched, her tightly bound braid whipping dangerously about, her face twisted in furious concentration, eyes glowing white-blue.

The crew of Zuko's Ship of Fools—all stout-hearted men with exemplary records of service who had seen a great many horrors in war—cried out in alarm and quickly backed away from the supernatural spectacle. After all, they'd seen this show of power before, except in that instance, it had been demonstrated by a 12-year-old Airbending monk.

It had not ended well for them _that _time, either.

* * *

Of course, most bounty hunters, regardless of how worldly they are or how many horrors they've seen, have probably never seen an Avatar Spirit activated, whether in the Avatar or in anyone else. 

So it was no wonder that Zho-Sei, one of the members of Manua's team who had been fending off the barrage from the Firebenders above with his arsenal of explosives, promptly wet his pants, panicked and lobbed his blasting jelly grenade at the monstrous water thing that had just surged up next to his tiny canoe.

* * *

The grenade was a small one, but the explosive detonated in a brilliant starburst of light and sound and colour and _force_…right behind Katara's exposed body. Something lodged inside Zuko's chest as he watched the torrent bearing Katara upwards reach its apex, wobble like a drunken snake, then collapse forward, washing gallons of water over the deck and dumping the Waterbender's steaming, flaccid form facedown in a large puddle. As the sea drained away, her green robes billowed out, blooming around her prone body, her head turned to one side, her arms and legs splayed out unnaturally. Her signature braid had come undone in the blast, and as the water coursed over her, the locks of wavy chestnut hair unwound themselves and fanned out around her. 

The prince remained frozen, numb at seeing the girl sprawled out in such an undignified manner. She looked like a giant water blossom plucked from the sea, her dark petals wilting over the deck. Zuko felt himself move forward, hands falling to his sides.

"Katara?" he managed through a mouthful of marbles. Water dripped down his face as he came toe-to-toe with her body. "D-do you yield?"

Her face was ghastly pale, her lips turning grey and stiff. He sank to his knees and reached out hesitantly.

She was cold.

"Katara," he insisted with a nudge. "Katara, don't try to trick me. I asked, do you yield?"

She didn't move.

Soldiers were streaming out of the tower, lining the ship's railing on the port and starboard sides. Explosions rent the night as fire and air and water ruptured all around him like ugly fireworks. The ship shuddered mercilessly with each blast.

But Zuko wasn't concerned with the battle his men were fighting. His own duel wasn't over. Any minute now, the Waterbender would get up and hit him with another ball of slush…

He grabbed her limp wrist and tugged her hard. "Come on, you stupid little peasant! If you don't concede defeat, I'm going to have to put my mark on you to end this fight!"

And still, Katara did not respond.

He stood shakily, dropping her arm and letting her weight collapse back into a heap. She was a consummate actress, he reminded himself. She'd been playing him since the very beginning and, dammit, she would not win this fight!

"Get up!" he shouted, and shot a fireball three inches from her face, the steam hissing menacingly close to her. She didn't flinch.

"I said _get up!_" Another fireball landed two inches from her face, flames licking her gently. And still she did not move. Rain slid off her mocha skin and pooled around her thickly. Zuko breathed hard, unwilling to let this possum-sloth act fool him.

Disgusted, he grabbed her by the shoulders and hauled her up. Her deadweight slumped against him, making him lose balance on the slick metal deck plating. He slipped and fell back hard onto his butt, splashing down into a puddle. Katara's head lolled against his bare chest, soaked strands of hair clinging to his skin.

"You stupid wench, I said GET UP!" he yelled, struggling beneath her leaden body.

But she wasn't moving, wasn't hearing…wasn't _breathing._

Zuko's heart stopped, feeling her stillness. He rolled out from under her, letting her head bounce hollowly against the steel deck, and his hands wandered over her, searching for signs of life. He found none.

He didn't think. He just acted. Turning her over, he singed the ties of her ruined chest plate with a burst of flame and yanked the whole thing off over her head, tossing it aside. His eyes took in the charred hole that had burned right through the green silk robe on the front near her heart. The back of the Kyoshian dress was in tatters from the grenade's blast. The blue robe beneath, however, seemed to be miraculously intact, and it gave Zuko hope against…he didn't dare to think what.

Tilting her head back to open her airway, the Firebender listened for signs of life. Nothing.

"Damn you," he growled, and began pumping at her abdomen with his palms. "You have to be alive, you stupid bitch! You won't win this game!" He bent down, pinched her nose and placed his mouth over hers, forcing hot, life-giving air from his lungs into hers. He turned his head to listen again. Nothing.

"You won't trick me again!" he gritted, his voice cracking. Water streamed down his cheeks and dripped onto hers. "You won't win! I said you wouldn't but you didn't listen, did you? You didn't trust anything I had to say, you ignorant Water Tribe girl! I tried to be noble, I tried to save you…you stupid, idiot…_girl!_"

He pulled the green garment open at the neck, singeing the ties off from around her waist and practically tearing the drenched silk away from her, revealing that field of faded blue with its worn, graying trim. He began pumping at her chest once more, willing his life into her, willing her heart to beat, to flutter, just a little, just for him….

* * *

The Thinker listened to Hung's growling report, taking in the nervous looks of the men around him. What a bunch of cowards, he thought disdainfully. One thing goes wrong and they were all ready to flee… 

But they'd all come too far to give up now.

"We'll just have to do it the hard way," Manua said, eyes glinting.

As if he'd known all along the timing would be perfect, the signal came, and he pursed his lips in a wolfish smile. The ship jounced and shuddered under the impact of the blasting jelly explosive the other team had planted on the hull at the water line nearest the lowest cargo hold. His smug look washed over his minions, and the others gaped at him in awe. The team of bounty hunters understood then that they were almost at their goal, that they could do this, that once they were past those doors, riches beyond their wildest dreams would be within their grasp.

Buoyed by this new hope, this new confidence in their leader, Hung and the others nodded their acquiescence, ready to go in for the kill.

The salty men stalked down the length of the hallway, weapons drawn, being none too careful about kicking the sleeping soldiers on the ground. In a few short seconds, the outer lock to the brig was picked.

They drew the bolt.

* * *

"They're coming!" 

Ching and Juno braced their spears, taking Firebending stances with weapons ready. Sokka pressed himself into the corner farthest from the outer portal, helpless, excited and terrified.

The heavy metal door swung open and a flurry of wordless battle cries filled the air, reverberating off the metal walls. The two soldiers lashed out, sending a blazing jet of flames out the bottleneck opening, a continuous stream of fire that would have cooked anyone standing within the doorway. Sokka shielded his face and eyes, the intensity of heat burning his skin.

The screams died off and as the last strangled, bloodcurdling cry fell away, the two guards let their attack taper off.

But no charred bodies littered the ground.

Juno cocked his head slightly. "Huh. That's strang—"

An arrow ripped through the man's jugular. Sokka heard himself scream as Juno dropped to his knees, clawing at the shaft that had skewered his neck straight through. Blood poured from the wound in spurting gouts as he writhed on the ground, making horrible choking noises. The man's mouth foamed with crimson spittle, splattering wetly around his lips. The Water Tribe boy found himself unable to turn his eyes away as he watched the soldier buck and struggle like a fish out of water.

His back arched high. He slumped. And then he was still.

But Ching paid him no attention. He'd immediately thrown another barrage of flame out the door, scouring the sides of the entryway and weaving around so that the sniper's arrow would not get him, too. But instead of pressing back, he was moving forward to the alarm bell near the brig's door, heedless of the red pine smoke drifting through the doorway. If he pulled that lever, the whole ship would be notified of the attack in the brig, and dozens of soldiers would come streaming down here to save them…

Save them? Wait, Sokka and Aang were the ones who needed saving…off this ship! This was supposed to be his rescue team trying to break in!

Ching pressed on. Two huge brutes barged in, swinging machetes at the Firebender, but the mercenaries were no match for the veteran soldier. He parried them deftly with his long spear, and shoved them both back out the doorway with his foot planted in the center of one man's chest.

Another man, thin and lanky, leapt over his companions brandishing a scimitar menacingly. He slashed down, left, right, and Ching was forced back two steps. He dropped his spear, catching it with the crook of his ankle, then sent a fireball at his attacker's head. The bounty hunter swerved, sticking his tongue out and goofily blowing a wet raspberry as he raised his sword above his head—

—and was neatly spitted through his centre by the Firebender's spear.

Sokka tasted bile in the back of his throat. His knees had turned to jelly. He was going to be sick any minute now, but his eyes were riveted to the gruesome exhibition before him.

Unable to yank the barbed spearhead out of his attacker's body, Ching pushed the shocked bounty hunter back through the door by the shaft of the weapon and drew the sword at his side just as another two assailants leapt through the door. The enormous man whose frame practically filled the corridor's breadth was armed only with brass knuckles. The other, smaller man waved a crude-looking, ridiculously oversized club threateningly at him.

For a wholly inappropriate moment, Sokka couldn't help but think the little thug was making up for something.

The mismatched ruffians rushed the soldier together, shouting, and Ching danced back as the behemoth swung his hammy fists, his knuckles crashing into the solid bulkheads, leaving dents in the plating. The Fire Nation guard thrust out with his sword, slashing at the huge brute and landing a nasty slice across his exposed forearm, splattering blood across the walls. He howled and backed away as the club-wielding foe rushed in.

Sokka watched in awe and terror as the Fire Nation man managed to land a flaming left hook to the thug's head, sending him reeling back a step. But he did not escape the man's fierce attack unscathed: Ching had taken two fierce blows, one to the shoulder and one to his side. He let out a grunt, but using his Firebending, managed to repel the club-wielder's advances until he was able to launch into another wave of fireballs. The man screamed and fell to the ground writhing, the sickly sweet smell of charred flesh filling the air.

That horrible, nostalgic smell… That terrifying day when the Fire Nation attacked his village…

Sokka doubled over and vomited.

Ching glanced over, panting with exhaustion.

"Sokka, are you—" he let out a frightful roar as an arrow pierced his left shoulder. Sokka looked up and felt another wave of nausea hit him, even as he cried out in alarm.

Ching curled his fingers around the base of the shaft and, bracing himself, yanked it out, howling with berserker agony. He dashed the arrow to the floor and brandished his sword, waving it crazily in the air, the hilt slippery with blood.

"It'll take a lot more to stop me!" Ching yelled a little hysterically. The handkerchief that had been tied around his face had slipped off and was bunched around his neck. He ripped it off. "The Fire Nation will not be defeated so easily!" Blood flowed freely from the wound in his left shoulder, soaking through the arm of his tunic. Bravado straining, he cried, "It'll take a lot more than arrows to kill us!"

A heartbeat passed.

And then a hissing something sailed into the room.

Heart plummeting, Sokka knew right away what it was. But his warning scream went unheard as the blasting jelly grenade went off.


	28. Chapter 28

* * *

**Chapter Twenty-Eight**

* * *

"We're taking in water! Seal off the lower decks!"

"Intruders aboard! Explosions on the brig level…"

"…going for the Avatar…"

"…engineer is knocked out…"

"YOU STUPID PEASANT!" Zuko screamed, shaking the Water girl. "WAKE UP!"

Strong hands roughly hauled on him, his heels scraping along the deck as he was pulled back.

"Let me go! This isn't over!" He thrashed and kicked at his assailants, struggling wildly as he was dragged away from Katara. An arm snaked around his neck, constricting him in a viselike hold until the red haze of wrath dimmed and he stilled. He finally began to hear the shouts above the chaos.

"…Avatar will escape! Zuko, are you listening to me? We are under attack and have intruders in the lower levels! There's a hole in the hull and we're taking water in the cargo hold!"

Zuko twisted out of his captor's grasp and whirled on the two fearful-looking soldiers who backed away from his wild-eyed glower. His uncle stood over him, his face sodden and haunted looking.

"How dare you interrupt me! The Agni Kai—"

"Is _over!_" Iroh yelled harshly, eyes blazing with anguish. Rain streamed down his face.

Zuko stared at him. As if to prove him wrong, he turned to look at the girl's slumped body, briefly lit by a strobe of lightning. Her clothes were torn and charred and soaked through the bone, and she was splayed out in a most undignified and uncomfortable-looking position.

Any minute now, any minute, she'd get up…she just needed a minute to recover and then she'd get to her feet and concede defeat…or keep going until he did kill her….

"She's dead, Zuko!" Iroh rasped. Anger strained his features, but the tension suddenly broke and his face seemed to cave in. A sob burst from the old man's lips and the sound echoed desolately in the prince's heart.

"_She's dead."_

* * *

Sokka coughed, groaned, and coughed some more. A purplish haze of smoke and dust billowed all around him, his sluggish movement creating little whorls in the air. He felt like he'd just been run over by a polar caribou-bear.

Sitting up gingerly, the Water boy blinked his sticky eyes and saw the door on his cell dangling off its hinges, the stark, twisted bars swinging in the eerie stillness of the room. He slowly rose to his feet, bracing himself against the wall, rubbing the back of his head where an apple-sized lump was forming. It was a good thing his skull was so thick, otherwise that bomb that had been thrown into the brig might have dashed his brains out.

A bomb. He should be dead, but he'd managed to throw himself into the farthest corner of his cell as the device detonated. Even so, the impact of the shockwave had slammed him up against the wall, hitting him like the flat side of Appa's tail.

Rubbing his sore backside, he wondered what kind of moron would risk killing the Avatar by throwing a grenade into the confined space—

Aang! Suddenly remembering his friend, he snapped his throbbing head around to look into the neighboring unit. The Airbender was still lying on his pallet against the far wall, oblivious to the world. The bars on his cell were twisted just like Sokka's, bent inward from the impact of the blast. But the chains around his wrists and ankles remained intact and securely locked to the tether ring on the ground. To Sokka's relief, he was still breathing and looked entirely unmarked.

"Aang?" he called out hoarsely. But he could barely hear himself. He shook his head, coughing again, and realized his head was still ringing from the explosion. It felt like he was underwater, and he swallowed thickly in an attempt to pop his ears.

Feeling like one big bruise, Sokka stiffly staggered to the cell's door and pulled at it. The whole piece of warped metal fell inwards and he jumped away as more dust and smoke invaded his nostrils. He stepped into the ruined main corridor. The plating was scored and dented, a mess of metal and debris littering the narrow path. The lanterns that lined the hall had all shattered, the spilled oil leaving pools of viscose flame burning here and there.

The Water Tribe boy stumbled as his foot snagged on something, falling hard to his knees. He grumbled a curse and turned to kick whatever had tripped him away.

It was a bloody arm.

Horrified, the young warrior fell back on his butt, scrambling away.

"Sokka…" His deadened ears picked up the distinct syllables of his name. He thought he was imagining it, but the soft, pain-filled voice was very close. Suddenly, the arm moved and the blood-covered hand reached out and grabbed his ankle. He shrieked.

"Sokka…"

He started. "Ching!" Sokka stooped and began clearing some of the rubble away. He hauled one large sheet of warped metal aside and found where the soldier lay.

The man was on his front, his mistakenly disembodied arm protruding awkwardly from under a pile of debris. He'd been blown back a good five meters from his standing position in front of Aang's cell. His helmeted head was turned to one side; the white face-plate was cracked down the centre and scored with black grunge.

"Hang on! I'll get you out of there—"

"No…" The soldier weakly waved his hand away, and then Sokka saw why. The explosion had loosened a steel panel from the ceiling and it had fallen on top of the man's spine edgewise. Jagged shards of shrapnel pierced him beneath the rubble, and blood was slowly pooling around him.

The Water boy knelt there, numb. If he tried to move the soldier out from under there now, it would certainly kill him. The shrapnel was probably the only thing keeping him from bleeding to death immediately. Even if someone did manage to move him…but no. Sokka wasn't a doctor, but he knew this was it. There was nothing he or anyone else could do for Ching. The young warrior, son of Hakoda and future leader of the Southern Water Tribe watched the Fire Nation man in his final, agonizing moments of life as his strength and dignity and spirit and honor seeped out of him.

"Sokka…" Ching whispered again from behind that mask, "…my son…"

The Water boy swallowed a thick, hard, bitter lump. The soldier thought he was his son. Tears brimmed and threatened to spill from his eyes, but he refused to let them, refused to show any weakness in the grim moment of his enemy's death.

Enemy. That word did not fit this man anymore. But neither did jailor, ally, friend, or any other kinship the young warrior could conjure. Ching was just a man doing his job—a man who evidently had a son, a wife…a family who would never see him again.

Well, there was at least one thing Sokka could do for him. He reached out and grasped Ching's outstretched hand, squeezing gently.

"It's okay," he said softly, willing the soldier's pain away, wishing he could ease his passing. "I'm here."

The line of the soldier's half-buried shoulders slackened with relief. With excruciating slowness, he moved his buried arm out from beneath the rubble, his shaking, blood-soaked hand clutching a crumpled something.

He exhaled, "My son…"

And he died.

Sokka sat motionless, feeling the man's mortality over every cell of his being like a fleeting ghost drawing a thin, clammy veil over his skin. He felt torn and joyless and hollow. The death of an enemy should have been cause for rejoicing, his newly acquired freedom reason for dancing.

But he just felt empty.

He had to do something, _anything _to fight this burgeoning sense of futility. With shaking hands, he pulled the man's helmet off, intent on giving him a proper sendoff. The skull-like face plate fell away in two pieces. Beneath, Ching's bloodied face and lifeless eyes stared back. He gently pressed his fingertips over the man's eyelids, closing them.

It didn't feel like enough. Not knowing what else to do, he said a Water Tribe prayer and pried the crumpled wad of parchment out of the dead man's cold, clawed fingers. He uncrinkled it carefully. A quick glance told him it was a letter to a soldier serving in the 41st Regiment of the Fire Nation army.

Ching's son. Yet another boy who'd lost his father….

And Ching wanted Sokka to deliver it to him.

His throat closed up as he carefully folded the missive into a neat square. He wouldn't read it. It was a private message. He swore right then and there that he would deliver it, in person if he could manage, and tell Ching's son how his father had died and what a kind and strong and wise man he was….

And then, like a beacon in his ravaged soul, a sudden clarity of conscience invaded Sokka. He moved almost automatically, his muscles obeying some higher function, and found himself kneeling over Juno's body, the sight of that arrow gruesomely skewering his throat making him feel oddly detached.

He repeated the Water Tribe death rites, remembering everything the man had told him. He remembered clearly, and with some hindsight, how much the man's eyes had sparkled at the prospect of an end to the war and a chance to see his family again; the resigned but noble carriage he bore as he spoke of his duty as a soldier; his fury at the cruel treatment of some POWs; and the pitiful glances he'd spared for "lucky" young men like Li and Sokka who thought war was just a game.

Sokka understood now. War wasn't a game. Life wasn't a game. Death in the line of duty wasn't dignified or honorable. It was simply the end of life.

He looked upon Juno's gruesome corpse, gnarled in the throes of death and settling into rigor mortis. Fate was a horrible mistress, he thought bitterly, twisted, cruel and ironic. She had given this noble warrior a bloody end and almost no chance to show his prowess. Fifteen years of dedicated service and he had died by a sniper's arrow while on guard duty on a vessel of exiles.

Sokka's heart cried for him.

But it wasn't his death that was important. It was life that mattered—lives men like the ones Juno and Ching had led; lives that, despite years of military service, fighting enemies from all corners of the globe, had been free of hatred and intolerance.

It was suddenly all so clear to him, as though the fog of adolescence had lifted, revealing a greater understanding of the world his father lived in, the same world these soldiers had shared.

Like his father, Juno and Ching had served and fought out of love for their country, love for their people. They'd fought Airbenders, Waterbenders and Earthbenders because that was who they'd been pointed at, who they'd been told to fire upon, as if they were just tools to be used against the enemy by men who based all their military strategies on numbers instead of lives; men who called starving prisoners, refugees, and widows and orphans "collateral damage."

But more importantly, the two dead Firebenders had _stopped_ fighting, stopped taking orders, stopped blindly marching to rape and pillage and slaughter when they knew their very souls were at risk. They had seen the line and chosen not to cross it, even with a sword at their backs and a rope around their necks.

They had seen the face of hatred and had wisely turned away. After all, hate was the basest recourse of the coward, an easy substitute for fear. What man, in his darkest and most desperate hour, had not been tempted to resort to the blind and baseless wrath of hatred to empower them? And yet somehow, these noble men had overcome their fear, had not allowed it to cloud their minds and warp them until they no longer knew themselves or their actions.

By refusing to conduct themselves as mindless brutes, Juno and Ching had kept their humanity and their honor. They were stronger as traitors than they were as ask-no-questions soldiers. They had conscience and will and courage, and had shown the world their mettle by saying, "No more." These were real men.

How ironic, Sokka thought with an inward twist of his lips, that the two people to teach him this lesson were from the very nation he'd been raised to fear. To hate.

The Water Tribe warrior looked upon them. No more, he thought. He would train himself to overcome his fear, to unlearn his hatred. He would fight for an end to this war and end to the horrors and the bloodshed, but not for vengeance. He would never succumb to the darkness within him. He would be his father's son. He would be a man.

Quietly, with a plea for forgiveness from his own people, he forgave the two men their sins, absolving them of any wrongdoing on his person. He did a cursory search of Juno's pockets, but found no letter to his family. Instead, Sokka took Juno's undamaged face plate, adding it to the letter tucked into the folds of his tunic.

_I'll never forget you,_ he swore, one hand over his heart. _I'll remember what you taught me. Both of you._

"Well, well, what have we here?"

The ringing in his ears had cleared. Sokka twisted to find three men standing over him, leering. A fourth was inside Aang's cell. "Fire Nation collaborator, eh?" the leader sneered.

"Manua! The Avatar's chained to the floor!" the man in Aang's cell called, holding the offending bindings up. "I can't break the chains or pick the lock! It's fused!"

The leader's lip curled, and he snorted impatiently. "Just cut his hands and feet off and carry him!" he barked. "The Fire Lord won't care, as long as he doesn't die!"

Sokka blanched. Fear morphed into something entirely different. His vision clouded, red and bright as blood. Adrenaline began pumping through his system like fast-flowing lava. He grabbed up the nearest weapon: Ching's sword.

"Don't you touch him!" he proclaimed loudly.

No more. He wasn't going to allow any more people he cared about to get hurt. It didn't matter if he died today; he'd get Aang out of this alive and safe, the way he'd promised himself he would when this whole debacle started.

The words "no matter what the cost" suddenly became all-too-clear to the Water Tribe warrior. And that was good. Because now, Sokka was really ready to fight.

* * *

"SHE IS NOT DEAD!"

A halo of angry heat waves rippled off Zuko's straining body as the soldiers tried unsuccessfully to calm their prince down. He stood between the men and the Waterbender like an enraged moose-lion guarding his mate. Iroh watched him anxiously, making pleading motions with his hands, his normally sage advice and soothing tone bouncing off the high-gloss veneer of his nephew's vehement denial.

The young Firebender felt the fingers of icy rain rake over his bare back and shoulders, heard the keen of the wind above the shouts of the crew who raced around doing damage control. While it appeared the surprise attack had been dealt with, the ship was listing slightly to one side as water gushed into the rent in the hull. It was a good thing they were moored in the shallows of the cove; otherwise, they might have sunk without any chance of recovering the ship.

But even if they'd had to abandon ship, it seemed Zuko would not likely have left. Not until the Waterbender got back to her feet and finished their fight.

"Where is the doctor?" he bellowed, finally deciding that maybe, just maybe, she needed medical attention. A girl couldn't hold her breath that long. "Why isn't he here?"

"Look at her, Zuko! She's dead! You killed her! The Agni Kai is over and you've won! Now please," Iroh cried despairingly, "please look around you! Save what's left of your honour! The Avatar might be escaping at this very moment…"

Those words didn't mean anything to the exiled Firebender anymore. Everything that meant anything to him had fled his reality, like the ashes of overcurious moths flitting away from a roaring bonfire. His hands clenched, gripping the remnants of slippery hope and fading dreams.

Zuko finally stared down at the graying visage of the lovely Water Tribe girl, echoes of her laughter and cries and shouts and screams resounding through him hollowly. His mind swam with images as it replayed every moment he'd spent with this lovely, infuriating girl since the day he'd met her. The day he'd threatened her grandmother… Those wide blue eyes inches from his face, her arms held aloft… A moment by a water fountain with fire dancing on the surface… A soft pink dress and long brown locks tousled by the wind… The taste of sweet grapes and salty fingers… A memory of a searing kiss that even now stirred him…

…A deluge of fire scoring her chest, sending her to her doom…

_She's dead…she's dead…_

_You killed her…YOU KILLED HER…_

He felt himself fall to his knees, the air whooshing out of him. Tremblingly, he touched her face.

"Katara?"

The cold seeped into him, extinguishing his fury, his fire. Icy rain streamed into his eyes, filling him with a profound, soul-deep chill.

"Katara…" He hiccupped. "Please…wake up…"

His hand moved over her. She was still. Gray. Cold. Unmoving.

Dead.

He stared at his alien appendage with its long, pale digits and callus-roughened pads. Disgust and horror did not begin to describe the deluge of emotion crashing through him. He had the hands of a killer. He was a killer. He was a boy who had murdered the girl he—

Zuko's heart clenched. A single, quiet sob ruptured from his chest as he realized the thing he'd done, a moment that stole over him as quietly and utterly as the night.

He felt it overcome him. Fragile as butterfly wings made of glass, tumbling end over end, the inexorable plummet that signaled the finale…

His heart broke.

* * *

_It's happening._

* * *

The shattering sensation morphed into one of sheer agony. Zuko felt as though someone had snagged his heart with a barb and was _pulling._ He fell onto his hands and knees, his back arcing and twisting as the spiritual tether strained. The tension ripped through him, jagged, blazing knives shivving through his mind. He cried out, uncaring of who heard his pleas for the tearing of his body and mind and soul to stop, _stop,_ _please stop…_

In that blinding moment, he thought maybe, just maybe, he deserved this unbearable pain…that _this_ was what love was, and gods, he would never, _ever_ want to feel it again….

And then, with a final, excruciating tug on his soul, the tether snapped. He collapsed on top of Katara's body, panting, nearly overjoyed by the cessation of pain but overwhelmed by grief and guilt, hot tears pouring from his eyes as he rolled heavily off her.

But, oh, his heart…his heart…

* * *

Iroh's rubbed his eyes, groaning. That flash had nearly blinded his spirit eye. As his vision cleared and he looked again, he discerned the diaphanous, radiant figure of a Water Tribe woman standing over the two teens, sorrow marring her serene face. With another flash, the blue-white ghost plunged straight down through the deck plating, leaving no trace of her presence.

The old man glanced over at his prone nephew and the girl. That strange, wavering tether no longer shimmered between them, and its absence made them each look so desperately isolated and incomplete.

It seemed that they had succeeded; Avatar Karanna was now free from her bond with the Water and Firebenders….

But the cost had been too high. Katara was still dead.

* * *

Below deck, the bounty hunters laughed.

"Get out of our way, boy, and maybe we'll let you leave with all your fingers." The leader brandished a wicked-looking dagger.

Sokka stood his ground, gripping the blood-sticky hilt of Ching's sword tightly. These men might be here to liberate the Avatar, but he was ready to do whatever it took to keep Aang all in one piece.

He was ready to leap at the bounty hunters when the grim silence was broken by a gravelly shout: "Put you hands in the air!"

They all turned to see a dozen Fire Nation soldiers, led by Lieutenant Jee, standing in a ready formation just inside the doorway, prepared to blast anyone and everyone in the brig. Sokka's knees wobbled with a strange mixture of dismay and relief.

The bounty hunter leader snarled. "Don't even think about it!" He gestured at the man in Aang's cell, who put a knife to the limp monk's throat. "Let us leave, or we'll kill the Avatar!"

"If you kill the Avatar, you'll never make it off this ship alive," Jee gritted.

One of the bounty hunters raised his chin defiantly. "Just try blasting us, Firebender scum. We've got enough blasting jelly grenades on us to take out this brig and the whole ship!" His sparking, bulging eyes glared at Jee, daring him to call his bluff.

Sokka didn't know who to cheer for anymore, so kept his mouth shut. The bounty hunters' only exit was blocked, and the Firebenders were not about to let their quarry escape past them with the Avatar. The two rival parties flexed and snarled and sweat for the span of three heartbeats, daring the other to make the first move, knowing that in a few short seconds, someone was going to die.

And then Aang's tattoos began to glow.

A steady wind began whirling around the tight, debris-filled space, and the Airbender's body rose out of the startled bounty hunter's grasp, hovering inches off the ground, the chains still holding him in place. Sluggishly, the little monk's eyes opened, like blinds being drawn open to reveal the dawn light of the apocalypse rising within him.

The blue-white glow of power was the most menacing salvation the Water Tribe boy could ever have wished for.

"Oh, no…RUN!" Jee shouted at his troops, wiser and more experienced with the Avatar state than the stupefied bounty hunters. The soldiers bolted, scurrying back down the corridor.

The bounty hunters' attention diverted, Sokka scrambled back and ducked behind a large piece of fallen hull metal. He watched his friend's possessed body as Aang regarded the chains nonchalantly and sliced them off with a wave of his hand. The manacles clattered to the ground uselessly and the piece of cloth soaked in ether that had been tied tightly around the boy's face simply dissolved as if it were nothing more than tissue paper in the rain.

Only momentarily daunted, the men quickly regained their senses and took a stand, too close to the finish line now to let a little bending show scare them off. They readied a weighted net and ropes, heedless of their prey's transformation, as the leader shouted orders.

It was their last mistake.

Aang _looked_ at them. And suddenly, it wasn't Aang anymore, but a woman in old Water Tribe clothes, her long brown hair whipping through the wind, an annoyed scowl on her face as if she'd just discovered roach-nits in her sleeping bag.

Sokka gasped. He knew that face. It was Avatar Karanna, the ancient cursed Waterbender from the island they'd all been trapped on a few weeks ago.

The woman's ghostly glowing form raised her hands, and she deftly flicked her wrist outwards. With an abrupt cry, the bounty hunters' bodies jerked up and were smashed against the twisted metal bars of the cells, the water in their bodies and soaking in their clothing all the Avataress needed to work with. They did not get up again.

With sure, deft movements, she began weaving her arms about, as if she were dancing, the wide sleeves of her ghostly old-fashioned Water Tribe dress billowing out. Sokka choked dryly and struggled to breathe through his nose as it became incredibly arid in the brig. The woman was gathering together as much water as she could find in the room, which turned out to be quite a lot with what was in the air and in the blood of the deceased. With a twirling motion of her hands, she created a cone-shaped spiraling drill that was alternately ice and water. Sokka didn't think it was possible, but as it made contact with the metal ceiling, it gouged and tore the hull away as if it were just wood shavings being bored out of the boat.

Within seconds, the water drill had pierced straight through to the top. Fresh air and rainwater merrily poured in from the hole. The woman revised her bending form and the drill changed shape, ribboning around her tightly. She rose on that revolving column of water, borne straight up through the layers of Fire Nation steel to emerge on the deck high above.

And then all was quiet.

Sokka stared up through the perfectly round opening the Avatar had made through Zuko's ship, feeling the rain patter softly down from the night sky, seeing freedom above, wallowing in death below.

Without another moment's hesitation, he raced out of the brig and wound his way through the ship, to freedom.


	29. Chapter 29

**Another lovely fanart piece by Plunkqwette www . deviantart. com / view/ 51606895 /**

**This chapter's a long one, so grab a blanky, a box of tissue, some popcorn and a drink and enjoy!**

* * *

**Chapter Twenty-Nine**

* * *

The deck whined and groaned only a few feet from where Zuko crouched over the Waterbender's body. The toneless screech of metal-on-metal was followed by a staccato series of _pop-pop-pops!_ And then the plating mushroomed open in a flurry of ice shards and curled steel shavings that fluttered down like shining tickertape and glittering confetti. 

Iroh backed away hastily as a shimmering, long-haired woman emerged from the hole, her body buoyed ten feet up in the air by a corkscrew of water. Blank, glowing eyes took in the scene all around her, and the seas, which had been churning restlessly, suddenly seemed to surge and heave with greater enthusiasm, throwing wave after ardent wave against the side of the tilting ship.

Zuko stared up at her, a baleful look in his eyes. Wordlessly, he gathered Katara's body up bridal style and carried her away from the hovering being, crossing the slippery metal deck straight-backed until he seemed to lose all strength, stumbling and collapsing into a crouch with his back to the Avatar. Unable to go on, he cradled her head against his shoulder, resting her weight across his thighs, and began rocking the Waterbender like a baby.

The prince was in shock, Iroh realized. His unseeing eyes were wide and glassy, ringed with dark circles. He shuddered intermittently, as if he were trying to suppress a laugh rather than a forlorn howl, and his sallow face was carved with deep lines. And yet, he did not cry: he had submerged every emotion, his grief now as deep and silent and turbulent as the ocean currents. He looked absolutely haunted—broken, as if a part of him had stopped functioning after his spiritual tether with Katara had snapped.

Had Zuko sensed his soul connection the way the Water girl had? Perhaps it was better if he hadn't, Iroh brooded: the absence of such a profound bond would only accentuate the ragged chasm in the young man's torn soul.

On the port side, a hatchway clanged open and the old man saw Sokka emerge, glancing about dazedly as he clambered onto the deck. He blinked in the dark, his eyes adjusting to the glare of the torches flickering in the softly pattering rain. His owlish gaze hove up to the Avataress.

The eerie blue-white light the woman emitted was like a beacon illuminating the scene all around him. Gently, the corkscrew bowed down and released its hold, setting her onto the cleared deck, though her feet didn't quite seem to touch the ground. Now that she had rejoined her spirit with the living Avatar's, it seemed Iroh was no longer the only one cognizant of her presence: All eyes were on the radiant woman.

And her eyes were on Zuko.

Sokka followed the woman's gaze. He went very, very still at the sight of Prince Zuko, shirtless, his arms around Katara, her clothes burnt and torn, her body limp…

Iroh could see the alarm rising in the young warrior, wanted to run to him and hold him back before he launched himself at the Firebender, and give Zuko a moment to grieve before he had to give her up forever….

But the mighty Dragon of the West could not outrun or outmaneuver the comprehension dawning wide and wildly on the young Water Tribe warrior's face; could not catch the boy before he fell to his knees, a wordless cry caught in his throat. _Too late…too late…_

For a second time that night, an inexorable chill swept through Iroh's bones. Seeing Sokka crumble was like feeling the Waterbender's death all over again…another death of an innocent child…

And then, as if things couldn't get any bleaker, the very air began weeping.

No, not weeping. Crying. Screaming. Shrieking…

_Cawing._

He looked up, the rain trickling down his face. His scalp prickled.

From the dark land came a phalanx of black birds, all flocking toward the ship, their shrill, rasping calls filling the air. Thousands upon thousands of crows blotted out the stormy night sky, winking midnight upon ebony, the rush of wings and the hoarse cries drowning out the patter of rain. The mass executed a tight arc en masse and began circling the ship in a whirling rush of feathers, churning the air and the sea into a froth.

The soldiers on deck shouted in alarm and scattered. Some of them scrambled back into the tower, others dived for the hatch Sokka had just emerged from, heedless of their escaped prisoner. The braver ones, including Jee, stood their ground, waiting to see what would happen as the birds began landing on the ship, covering every perch and surface they could find. Their bodies squashed together, tightly packing the railings and ledges until the whole ship looked as though it were trimmed in glossy black feathers. Thousands of bright, beady eyes dared the soldiers to retaliate, the malevolence radiating from these simple creatures as palpable as the cloying smell of death and carnage that trailed after the flock.

A monstrous roar spilt the sky. Everyone looked up again as the squall of black wings drew apart.

That six-legged mass of pale fur with his big, square teeth and horns was unmistakable. The Avatar's flying bison charged towards the ship, those trunk-like legs pumping for speed, the foam at the corners of his massive mouth indicating this was not a happy creature. Just barely, Iroh could discern Appa's comically tiny pilot perched on his head—the Avatar's gregarious lemur and Zuko's former captive, Momo.

A larger, unidentified passenger rode on the wide saddle. Iroh felt his skin crawl unpleasantly as she leveled a look at him.

The beast landed on the deck with a resounding thud, the listing ship jouncing underfoot. The bison didn't attack immediately, but growled a staunch warning at the wary soldiers, who weren't sure which foe to be more afraid of: the shaggy mammal, or the shaggy woman riding atop it.

With one hard-eyed pass, the malkin took in the scene and her steely stare pinned the prince. "Out of the way! Out of the way!" She lithely jumped down and hastened toward Zuko, her moldy, wet rags flying out behind her. Jee and a group of five soldiers immediately put themselves between her and their young commander. She snarled, her haggard face twisting into an even uglier visage.

"You would dare attempt to stop me?" Two rusty hand scythes abruptly appeared in her grip, drawn discreetly from the volumes of her grey, tattered clothes. "I will kill you all where you stand if you do not move away from that girl _right now!_"

The crows flapped noisily, screeching in challenge, and the Firebenders recoiled, suddenly aware that they were completely surrounded.

"Stand down!" Iroh shouted over the cacophony. "Everyone, stand down and let her pass!" He wasn't entirely certain what was going on, but that spark of _something_ he saw in the raggedy woman told him she meant his nephew no harm.

Jee hesitated for only a second before he dropped his hands and backed away. The others followed suit, and they parted like a curtain.

Zuko clutched Katara's lifeless body as though she were some kind of oversized rag doll. The woman trudged right up to him, scythes disappearing back into her clothes, her eyes narrowing as she frowned down at the prince.

"Idiot child," she spat remorselessly and shook her head. "What a mess. She had no idea what she was doing."

Zuko looked up at her as though she'd just popped out of thin air. The rain pattered softly over his pale, pale face.

"And _you!_" Witch hissed, pointing at him with an accusing finger. "_You_ did this to her!"

He gaped helplessly like a fish, the furrows between his eyebrows deepening until he looked back down and held Katara closer, awaiting the punishment for his crimes, it seemed.

It came all right. A large-seeming hand grabbed Zuko's bare shoulder. Iroh couldn't move fast enough as his nephew glanced up just in time to receive a savage right hook to his jaw. He went sprawling to the ground.

"I told you to stay away from my sister!" Sokka shrieked, wrestling Katara's body away.

Zuko picked himself up slowly, one hand lightly holding the side of his face as if he'd only been slapped. He absently wiped at the little trickle of blood at the corner of his mouth, but made no comment as Sokka struggled to right his sister.

"Katara…Katara! Wake up!" The Water boy tugged at his sister's tiny hand, his face twsting with concern as he felt her stiff, icy fingers. He reached out and touched her face, her chest, her shoulders, searching for the hurt, the boo-boo he could make better because that's what big brothers did…

"Come on, Katara…" his voice strained and he shook her. "We're free now. Appa's here. We can keep going to the North Pole—"

"She's not breathing," Zuko told him, so softly he barely heard him. He was kneeling close by, as close as he dared to sit by the body and the brother.

"SHUT UP!" Sokka snarled, and just as quickly, his voice softened. "C'mon Katara. I promise I'll make dinner for the next two weeks if you help me get Aang up onto Appa's back…I can't do it on my own…"

"She's not breathing," the Firebender repeated hollowly. He was barely breathing himself.

"No. No, that's not…c'mon Katara…." The Water boy jostled her playfully, but she was limp and unresponsive. "Wake up. Wake up. C'mon—"

But she was so cold, so heavy. It was as if her spirit had made her light like a feather, and now that it had left her, she was just a dead, leaden thing…

"Katara…Katara…wake up…please…please…oh, gods, please…."

His words cut off abruptly, replaced by the mute shaking of his shoulders. An inhuman moan started in Sokka's gut, low and bleak, erupting from his mouth as he threw his head back, his keen echoing off the mountains.

The Fire Nation soldiers turned away as the young man's whole world fell apart.

"You!" Sokka glared up at Zuko murderously. "YOU KILLED HER!" He shoved at the banished prince with blind, fumbling hands, huge sobs wracking his chest. He didn't have the strength to land another blow, though the prince would not have tried to stop his assault. Zuko just sat there, staring at Katara's brother as the blackness of despair overflowed and pooled all about him. "YOU STUPID FIREBENDER! YOU KILLED HER! YOU KILLED HER! I HATE YOU! I HATE ALL OF YOU!"

The prince gawped. Rain flowed in icy little rivers down his face, fat drops sparkling in his lashes as he watched Katara's brother grieve, rail and cry the way a man should when someone he loved passed.

"I'm sorry," Zuko mouthed. But Sokka didn't notice. He was nearly hysterical with anguish.

"Katara…Katara…I'm sorry, I'm so sorry…why…why did you do it…" he moaned.

"She's not dead," a soft, feminine voice broke in.

A desperate surge of hope sliced through the collective malaise and they all turned to look at the Avatar. The rain stopped abruptly. "What?"

Avatar Karanna's nebulous spirit glowed around the Airbender's tiny form. She drifted forward and said, "I am holding her spirit and tethering it so that it does not enter the Spirit Realm."

"You have to save her," Zuko rasped. He stood up, chin raised. "Let me change places with her."

Iroh gasped. "Zuko!"

"You keep away from my sister!" Sokka roared. "You've done enough damage!"

"Sacrifice isn't always what's called for in these cases," the old crone said sagely, her animosity now toned down to a dark shade of disgust. "Even during the most desperate times, the greatest victory you can ever achieve is to let go, to move on and adapt. To live."

"Please," Zuko breathed. "I'm begging you..." His eyes were lowered to the ground.

"Oh, Zuko…" The Avataress smiled sadly. "Noble as your offer is, even your love isn't enough to bring her back."

Sokka glared at him, the pure condemnation in his eyes nearly shouting _See? You're not good enough for her!_

But the prince refused to listen. "I've committed a grave wrong," he said lowly. "I have to fix it."

"There is nothing you can do, Firebender." The old woman in rags inclined her chin at him. "You are not strong enough to bring Katara back."

The prince's eyes flashed and he turned on her. "Then I'll get stronger. There is nothing I won't do to save her life. _Nothing._" Desperation crept into his voice. "I am responsible for all this. I swore on my honour that no harm would come her, and I let this happen. _I_ did this to her. _I_ killed her. It's _my_ fault. _My fault!_ I—"

"Stop being so melodramatic!" Sokka screamed at him, cradling Katara's head in her lap. To both the strange women, he shouted, "If there's a way to save my sister, just tell us how to do it! I don't care what it takes, just bring her back!"

Witch's face blanked. Her lips pursed into a thin, cracked line. Her pale eyes skated away...

And then she burst out in a maniacal cackle, hooting and slapping her knee, her startling outburst splitting the somber night air.

"Well, at least _someone_ in your family is smart enough to ask these questions sooner rather than later!" She sent the bewildered Sokka a wry, appreciative look. "Good on you, boy. With a quick mind like yours, your ragtag band of do-gooders might just have a chance of saving the world after all."

She turned her face upwards, stuck her fingers in her mouth and blew a shrill, ear-splitting whistle.

The crows covering the ship started a throaty bleating, a symphonic trumpet call heralding the new arrival. High in the sky, a dark shape wheeled. It spiraled down, its huge wingspan filling Iroh's watery vision as it alighted on the hag's outstretched arm. The enormous crow shifted wobbly as it somehow found its footing on the tiny-seeming woman's shoulder, then turned its glossy head and regarded the retired general curiously.

He blinked. He saw the huge bird, but in the same space, he could also see a masked man, or a man-like shape, garbed in white, shoulders hunched slightly. The ghostly man acknowledged him with a short bow. Iroh gaped.

"Ah, so it _is_ you," Witch said thoughtfully to the startled old general. To the bird: "Bai-Bai, meet the infamous Dragon of the West." She gestured at him with feigned cordiality.

"A Spirit bird," Iroh intoned. He bowed reverently to the creature. "Things are either becoming more clear…or less." He frowned lopsidedly, and considered the crone. "You'll have to forgive me if I've forgotten in my old age…but have we met?" he asked with all the courtesy due a duchess.

Witch grinned, her stained and broken teeth glistening with spittle. "Only in your worst dreams and fondest nightmares, General Iroh." She preened, but did not elaborate. "But for the sake of simplicity, you may address me as Witch."

"Um, hello? I hate to interrupt your little reunion or whatever, but MY SISTER IS STILL DEAD." Sokka's voice cracked.

With a quirk of her lips, Witch proceeded, tilting her head to one side. The large crow speared his dagger-like beak into her matted hair and whispered into her ear.

"Katara's spirit has no anchor," she explained for all to hear. "In the moment she realized her death, she let go of everything she held dear, preparing herself for the afterlife. She has no way of keeping herself in her body if she doesn't have a reason hang on, and the lure of the Spirit World is a strong one. It is calling to her even now."

"It's Mom…" Sokka murmured, the tiniest smile curling his lips as he smoothed a lock of hair away from Katara's face. "She's missed her ever since…" The words died away.

Witch puzzled over the Spirit crow's dialogue and grunted. "She needs a purpose that's true and meaningful. A reason to live. And I don't just mean some silly notion that she's going to help 'save the world'." Witch wrinkled her nose, and listened to Bai-Bai some more. "Her attachments have always been to people…so we will need someone to be an anchor."

"I'll be her anchor!" Zuko and Sokka said together. They glared at each other.

Karanna tilted her head. "We all will be." They could hear Aang's boyish lilt beneath the woman's sonorous voice. "Together, our love is strong enough to hold her here until the right time comes to let go once more."

"But…she's hurt," Sokka said, a hand passing over his sister's forehead. He couldn't see her wounds, but he knew, could sense deep within himself, that inside her body, something was wrong.

Karanna drifted forward. With a pass of her arm, the water pooling around the siblings glowed, congealing around the Waterbender's body. For a second, Katara was entirely cocooned in cold light. Sokka held his sister perfectly still, watching in wonder as the radiance seeped into her skin and faded away.

"Her body is healed now," the Avataress declared gently, and Sokka could see that a little colour had returned to his sister's face, though she still wasn't breathing. "Now we must heal her spirit."

"Well, then, what are we waiting for? Let's do this thing!" Sokka urged.

Witch frowned deeply. "It's not like netting fish, boy. You can't just all hold hands and chant and think it's done." She made a face. "'Anchor' is a misleading term. A more apt one might be…" she thought a moment "…_soul fusing._ We're talking about braiding your fates together so Katara's soul can't drift away—we're weighing her down in the real world. The process is almost as painful as breaking a tether is—" she eyed Zuko archly "—and you don't want to go through it while you're awake."

"I don't care! Just save Katara already!" Sokka cried.

Witch snorted derisively, but she looked impressed. "This will not be an easy task. And—" she paused to listen then flinched "—there's an added complication. If we are going to do this, you will not be permitted to remember anything about this affair."

"What? Why?" Zuko and Sokka shot each other annoyed looks. They were really getting tired of echoing each other.

Witch explained patiently. "Bai-Bai here is one of the Keepers of Dreams and Memory." She gestured to the crow. "He is a guardian of the forgotten, the gatekeeper for the thoughts and dreams and nightmares that would otherwise plague us day and night." She stroked the bird's throat with a forefinger. "He tells me that Fate and the Spirit World are in conflict right now. Since Karanna's return, a great rent has been made in the fabric of destiny, and our interference has only been making things worse."

"Each of your lives is a fiber in the Great Web of Life—Fate's grand design," Karanna said. "It is a tapestry She weaves according to the universe's pattern, and the way each of your lives intersects and reacts with others' lives is integral to the weaving.

"By fusing your souls together to save Katara, we are weaving your threads together and deliberately altering the Great Web. According to the universe's plan, you must each divert in the Web's pattern. You must experience all the things the universe has in store for you, meet and influence the people you are destined to encounter; and it must all happen uninfluenced by otherworldly beings such as myself and Bai-Bai and the events we've engineered."

"But shouldn't all _this _be a part of the universe's plan?" Sokka asked, gesturing widely about.

"I don't pretend to understand everything about Fate or the Spirit World," Witch interjected, "but I can tell you that this is not the first time a being from the Spirit World has interfered in mortal affairs—" she sent Karanna a sidelong glance "—or that a mortal has tried to influence the Spirit Realm to tailor destiny to suit his needs." She cut a narrow-eyed look to Iroh and his gaze skittered away. "In some cases, it's justified. But the damage to the Web of Life is sometimes too much for one Spirit alone to repair, and too much for the universe to ignore. If we let it alone, the world would descend into chaos and reality would unravel."

"But we make our own choices; we choose our own paths, make our own destinies!" Sokka proclaimed righteously.

"Don't be an ignorant whelp," Witch snapped. "There are forces at play we cannot begin to comprehend; rules we can't imagine ever trying to follow." Her silver-grey eyes swiveled to pierce him with an arch look. "We're just tiny pieces on a great big Pai-sho board, boy. We can move ourselves, certainly, but there are only so many ways we can maneuver legally." She studied him as the bird whispered to her and glared at Sokka contemptuously. "A word of advice—" she pierced him with a look "—_don't_ play games you don't understand…_especially_ with the Spirits. They hate cheaters, and they hate to lose."

Sokka swallowed dryly. It sounded like good advice.

Iroh regarded the Spirit bird steadily. "You knew something would go wrong when Karanna finally broke free from the girl and my nephew, didn't you?" His voice was full of reproach. "I've never known a Spirit to be so actively involved in our affairs. That's why you're here, isn't it?"

The bird and his ivory shadow watched him. The old general's brow furrowed as understanding dawned. "Something _big_ is going to happen… Something that will involve all of us…" he enunciated slowly _"...and the Spirit World. _That's what this is all about..." He paled slightly.

The crow stared him down, then bobbed his head once in affirmation.

"Uncle, what are you talking about?" Zuko asked, exasperated.

"We have more pressing issues to deal with right now," Witch interrupted. "If we're going to save Katara and keep the universal pattern from falling apart, you cannot remember anything about how you are all connected. For destiny to stay on track, all of you have to go on uninfluenced by everything that has happened here. We will have to remove all of your memories of Karanna and of these events of the past few days."

Sokka blanched. "But why?" He clutched at Juno's faceplate and Ching's bloody note tucked inside his shirt. "How can knowing anything about a long-dead Avatar possibly affect our mission? How can knowing _anything_ about all this change fate or the Spirit World?"

Karanna explained. "Centuries ago, I made my own prison on Lian Island, binding myself to the water on the island so that I could exact my terrible vengeance upon the one who wronged me. When Katara and Zuko came, I saw in them both the spark of attraction, and their infinite capacity for love. Their situation was so like mine…" She trailed off for a moment. "It reminded me of what it had been like to love…and I realized then that I would see my Zuko again in the Spirit World, where he'd been waiting for me for so very, very long. But if I wanted to go to him, I had to let go of my anger, my hatred…I had to embrace love."

She addressed Prince Zuko. "I used Katara's body to remind me of what that love was like. I'm sorry if I offended you, but her attraction for you was very strong…. Ultimately, making her kiss you helped me let go."

Zuko swallowed dryly, his cheeks heating.

"And I did let go. My curse on the island was lifted…but I did not anticipate that Zuko and Katara's tangle in Fate's Great Web would ensnare me so effectively. By interfering in their natural attraction, I became bound to these two young people. I had invested too much of myself into their relationship, inadvertently intertwining their fates."

"Just by making them kiss?" Sokka asked incredulously.

The Avataress nodded. "Once I realized what I'd done, I convinced Katara to help free me by interacting further with Zuko. I didn't realize just how much a relationship between them would change their path and alter destiny. And so you see the situation we've reached now."

"But what does that have to do with my memories? Why not just wipe _their_ brains of all this…this _mushy_ stuff?" Sokka cringed, gesticulating between Zuko and his sister.

"Sokka, you, your sister, the Avatar," she turned, "and you, Prince Zuko…all of you have a great task ahead of you, one that will equally affect your world and the Spirit World. The grand design has already decreed it, and we cannot foul it up. Everything that has happened here—the connections you've made with these people and each other, the growth of your spirit and understanding of the world…it will change how you behave, change how you deal with certain situations…it will change _destiny_. If the grand design is to be maintained, then you must not be allowed your memory of this time. You've all been influenced too much. None of you can know Karanna because knowing about her will ultimately lead you to remember the time you've spent here, the relationships you formed, your opinions and feelings..."

"But…but that means…"

"You will not remember being on this ship. You will not remember your encounter on Lian Island." The Lady Avatar turned to Zuko. "You will never have captured the Avatar. You will all awaken as if you have just stopped for the night."

"You mean, everyone here will forget? The soldiers, the crew… All of us?"

"No." Witch said, and looked sharply at Iroh, pointing. "He is immune." She chuckled lowly and sang, _"Just. Like. Me."_

They all stared at the old man, who slid his eyes away guiltily.

Zuko stared, confusion and betrayal flickering over his features. "Uncle, is that true? How is it possible?"

"Even if I told you now, you wouldn't believe it." He shrugged resignedly. "Besides, you would just forget it in the end."

"Can you bear the burden of remembering, Prince Iroh?" Karanna asked gravely, and everyone blinked at the use of his rarely-used honorific. "You can never speak of what has happened here, lest you jeopardize the grand design. Can you be the Protector of Fate and the Spirit Realm?"

"I have many titles already." He smiled wryly, shrugging his shoulders. "Adding one more will not break my back."

"What about Katara?" Sokka asked. "Will she be okay? Will she remember?"

"She will live, and remember nothing." Witch translated for Bai-Bai. He said something else to her and she rolled her eyes. "But there's something else."

Sokka moaned. "Now what?"

"Katara has been my vessel for many weeks," Karanna explained. "She has been touched by an Avatar in the most directly spiritual way. The Avatar Spirit has been activated within her twice now, and while it is not as potent as the Avatar's full spectrum of experience, there's no telling what my own powers have done to her."

"That's how she survived the fall off the cliff!" Zuko exclaimed suddenly. "Back when I was chasing her through the woods…" His words faded away. Karanna nodded in confirmation.

"I can't say exactly how long the effects will last now that I have evacuated her body, or even what will happen. It may be days, or even years before symptoms show up or go away. She may suddenly exert Avatar-like powers. Then again, maybe nothing will happen to her. Or maybe her bending abilities have been augmented—she is naturally gifted but with my experience added to hers….Well, no one can say what she might become."

"That's not exactly a specific prognosis," Sokka grumbled.

"This _is_ a situation without precedent," Witch scoffed. "We don't have _all_ the answers."

Zuko looked from his uncle to the Avatar, from the crow, and down to Katara. "So, if we do this, she lives." He looked to the Avatar for confirmation. Karanna nodded.

He swallowed, his voice softening. "But I'll…we'll never have…"

"It will be almost painless, Zuko," the Lady Avatar assured him gently. "You will sleep, and remember nothing about her upon waking, apart from what you already knew up to the day you landed on Lian Island. It will be like neither of you two had ever fallen in love."

His brow wrinkled and he made a noise that sounded like he'd stabbed himself. "Then you have to remove more than just the memories of the island," Zuko said sternly. "The Ho'Wan Island Carnival. If we're going to do this right, we can't remember being there." His lips pursed and he looked down, his fists clenched. "I met her at the carnival weeks ago and we…" The memories choked him, and he couldn't go on.

Witch listened to the Spirit bird briefly. "Bai-Bai agrees to your request. He will displace those memories, as well."

Sokka's fierce look made him look like a shriveled sea prune. "Okay, now I'm really grateful I'm going to forget all this." He squeezed his temples, sliding his hands over his ears so he wouldn't have to hear anymore.

Zuko ignored him, his features softening as he looked over at Katara. His fists clenched. "I don't want to forget," he said softly.

A hand squeezed his shoulder. He looked into his uncle's sorrow-filled face. "I will remember for the both of us, my nephew." He patted his back soothingly. "I'm sorry it has to be this way. You are being very honorable."

"No." He looked away. "I'm being selfish."

"So are we going to do this or what?" Sokka's eyes narrowed at the Fire prince. Zuko cut his eyes at him equally and nodded.

"We need to prepare," Witch announced. To Iroh she said, "Have your men clean up any evidence that the Avatar was ever on this ship. We don't want to confuse your crew anymore than in necessary."

"What about the damage in the hull?" Lieutenant Jee asked. The man had listened in on the whole conversation—he was imperturbable.

"And the brig," Sokka piped up. Iroh cut him a grim, questioning glance.

Bai-Bai cawed in warning.

"We don't have time for that," Witch said, shaking her head. "Katara's spirit can't be tied down forever."

"Then let's get what we can out of the way. I will do what I can to…explain the rest." The old Firebender sighed, looking suddenly twenty years older. He talked to Jee briskly, and they quickly mapped out a plan to hide and plant evidence so that the retired general could facilitate the grandest performance of his life. The lieutenant then relayed orders to the soldiers snappishly, and the troops scattered.

Sokka gently placed his sister down on the floor and approached Iroh. He cleared his throat. "Two of your men were killed by the bounty hunters when they stormed the lower level." He hesitated, then took out the blood-soaked piece of parchment Ching had given to him. He held it out to Iroh. "One of them…Ching…he gave me this to give to his son."

Iroh's face sagged. He accepted the crumpled note and opened it up, smoothing the creases out and smearing blood on his hands. He read the note briefly, and Sokka saw his eyes fill with tears before he re-folded it carefully. "Thank you. I will make sure his son gets it." His gaze skittered away.

"He fought honorably," Sokka added abruptly. "They both did. They were good men."

Iroh's pained look eased a little. The Water boy dashed the water from his eyes with the back of his hand as he turned away, bringing his attention back to his sister's prone form.

Zuko was kneeling over her, looking intently into her face. He reached down and smoothed her soaked hair off her cheek, his fingers lingering against her skin, so dark compared to those ivory digits.

Sokka felt his gut clench, seeing the Firebender minister to his little sister with such tenderness. He could see the sorrow and longing plainly in the prince's hooded eyes. A perverse kind of sympathy stabbed through him for the Fire Nation royal—but Sokka stamped it out quickly.

"If I ever remember this," he growled, "I will _never_ forgive you."

Zuko looked up, his face impassive. "I wouldn't, either." His eyes darted back down, and he just hovered there, staring, as though committing Katara's face to memory.

Sokka did not stop him, did not push the young man off his sister. He went instead to visit the pensive Appa, who lorded over the scene and kept vigil over his Airbending master's possessed body.

Soon, Jee returned with a report that the soldiers had done what they could to remove any evidence of their prisoners' presence on the ship. The remains of the bounty hunters they'd found in the brig were moved, and the Avatar's confiscated staff, which had taken a place of honour in Zuko's room, was brought out and put into Appa's saddle. Obviously, they could do nothing about the extensive damage to the ship, but Iroh was confident he could explain it away.

The rain was now nothing more than a ghostly virga, and the clouds scudding through the sky were quickly dissipating to reveal the cold, clear pinpricks of starlight on the black velvet night. A waxing half moon peeked surreptitiously down at them from her shadowy bower, and the eerie, silent crows all around them turned their faces to look up at it as one.

Appa and Momo observed the humans passively. It was very strange for Sokka to see them so solemn—normally, the Air beasts were a carefree duo, as happy-go-lucky as Aang. It was almost as though they understood everything that was happening. He wondered, would they forget, too?

On an impulse, Momo suddenly leapt from his perch on the bison's shaggy head and soared across the ship, landing on Zuko's shoulder. Startled, the prince jumped, but the lemur held fast. Unsure of what he'd do next, Zuko held still.

Momo purred then nuzzled the Firebender shamelessly behind his ear.

"Not you, too!" Sokka groaned in outrage. "Traitor!"

"Uh…you're welcome…" Zuko said quietly to the creature. He scratched the lemur's scruff, and Momo arched into his touch before taking off and landing almost apologetically on Sokka's shoulder. His enormous ears sagged as he gave a sheepish, inquisitive little chirrup.

The Water boy wrinkled his nose. "Uh-uh. I don't have treats or snuggles for you anymore. You have Firebender cooties."

"Are we ready, then?" Witch snapped huffily. "I don't want to have to spend any more time on this blasted boat than I already have."

"Wait," Sokka interrupted, suddenly nervous. "How is this all going to work? I mean…"

"How do you know I won't slit your throats while you're all asleep, or take the little Airbending monk to the Fire Lord myself?" The hag grinned menacingly, displaying a set of stained, rotting teeth. Sokka backed away and she laughed lowly. "You don't. But I wouldn't defy the Spirits, boy. Even with a whole ship full of Fire Nation troops I'd happily slice open for my brethren to feast on, I wouldn't dream of interfering with the games the gods and Spirits play."

Sokka gulped, grinning uneasily.

"Are you ready?" Karanna asked soberly.

Zuko looked up into the faces around him, trying desperately to absorb the moment, the feelings whirling through him, the things he had come to understand about this girl, and about himself. And now he was going to lose it all.

"Wait."

Disregarding the Water boy, his men, his uncle, the birds, and the heavens all watching the proud, disgraced crown prince of the Fire Nation, he knelt down and scooped the girl into his arms, cradling her against his warm chest before brushing a long, sweet kiss on Katara's stiff lips. For the briefest moment, he thought he felt her life force flicker, her lips seeming to flutter for a breath. He pressed his forehead to hers, willing her to hear him.

"For you," he whispered, "I would have given it all up."

Karanna smiled.

Bai-Bai nodded his approval. On some unseen cue, the crows all took flight, sending a menacing rushing sound through the still night air. The mottled shadows soon became a sheet of darkness blotting out the sky, the sea and the land, until all around the ship, all anyone could see or feel was moving blackness.

Zuko stared around, seeing that whirling shadows all around him, feeling an odd sense of déjà vu as black engulfed the ship in a tornado of wings. The cyclonic mass of birds shrank in diameter, swallowing fore and aft sections first, the tower, then the port and starboard railings, and the deck, which all seemed to simply be swallowed up, as if it had never existed.

Appa barked in fear and shied away from the encroaching darkness, but as soon as the shrinking wall touched him, he was whipped up, snatched away without a trace.

Everyone backed away in terror.

"Don't be afraid," Witch cackled at the wide-eyed men edging away from the cyclone. "It's just a bunch of birds." She hooted and vaulted into the swirling fray.

Zuko saw one of the men staunchly extend a hand to touch the blackness. A sharp cry and he was suddenly gone. And then another, and another. One by one, the soldiers were plucked out of existence, unable to all fit within the rapidly closing space within the eye of the wing storm.

Fear and dread washed through the prince as stalwart Jee was sucked up in the deluge of black. Screeching, Momo tried to fly straight up, but just as it looked like he was going to escape into the sky, he simply vanished.

"What's happening?" Sokka shouted over the roar of the birds. "This can't be right!"

"Don't be afraid," Karanna intoned. "It'll be over soon."

"Trust in the Spirits, Sokka!" Iroh yelled back. "We have to return things to the way they were meant to be!" And with that, the old man closed his eyes and took a step forward into the abyss. He blinked out of existence.

"Uncle!"

Iroh was gone, leaving only Zuko, Katara, Sokka and the Avataress.

"Go, Sokka," Karanna said, and Aang's hoarse little-boy voice was distinct beneath her lilt. "When you wake up, everything will be okay."

The Water Tribe warrior looked from Zuko to his sister and back to the Avatar. His shoulders slackened. He sent Zuko one more long, contemptuous look then turned his back. Fists clenched, he stood his ground and let the blackness overtake him.

Only enough room remained for Zuko and the Avataress, with Katara held between them.

"Be brave, Prince Zuko," she addressed him with a smile. "Your part in the grand scheme is equally as important as the Avatar's. Whatever happens, do not give up." And then she was gone.

As the fast-spinning reel of crows blurred into a wall of ebony irising closed on him, Zuko clutched Katara closer, pressing his lips to the shell of her ear, breathing in her cold-in-death scent, praying to Agni, to Sedna, to Tui and La and all the Spirits to give this girl her life back no matter the cost to him.

This was the end. He knew it now. It didn't matter what Karanna or the strange bird woman had said—he'd handed control and absolute trust over to them, and now it was too late to turn back, to change things, to do anything except wait for the black to close in.

He had nothing left to lose…and it felt wonderful.

He closed his eyes, finally feeling the tears of grief and relief flow freely as he whispered his vow:

"I won't forget…I won't forget…Katara…Katara…I love you…Please don't let me forget I love you—"

The girl inhaled sharply and her eyes fluttered open, as if she were just awakening from a dream. Colour flooded her cheeks and once-blue lips. She stared up at the stunned young man, caught in mid-confession, her lips parting as if to breathe in the echoes of Zuko's words.

_I love you… I love you… I love you…_

She smiled broadly at him, her eyes sparkling.

"Hi, Zuko," she said softly.

Zuko felt his face break out into a grin just as the lightest brush of feathers grazed his neck.

And then there was nothing.


	30. Chapter 30

**Thank you all for reading _The Game_. This is the final chapter before the Epilogue. It has been a tremendous journey for me to write this ATLA fanfiction "trilogy" and because of all your wonderful reviews and encouragement, I'm trying my hand at writing some real original fiction, which I hope to submit for review by the end of the year.**

* * *

**Chapter Thirty**

* * *

"What is reality but our cognition of it? Is it not shaped by our ability to recall, by tactical sensory perception, the world around us? How, as a species, could we survive without memory? The ability to learn and retain knowledge, to recognize food, danger, shelter…it is an essential part of us and a part of the world we live in. Even the basest creatures have memory…. 

"I can only imagine that the blessed Spirits of creation devised memory as humanity's gift and curse: For though memory gives us the ability to live and function on the most basic level…who wouldn't want to forever forget that most humiliating moment in their lives so they would not have to relive it again and again in their minds? Who wouldn't want to forget sorrow and pain, betrayal, anger, frustration, and all those negative emotions that eat away at our souls in the darkest hours?...

"Well, I can safely say that _I_ would not choose a lie of omission over the heart-breaking truth. Perhaps that is my bias, though, being a middle-aged scholar. As tempting as a carefree life without memory of sadness might be, I _would_ choose knowledge, wisdom and experience over blissful ignorance. I _would_ choose to remember my sorrows, my personal failures and anxieties, over never knowing joy or love or triumph, however fleeting.

"Without memories and their lessons, how else would we learn and grow? How else would we become the men and women who shape destiny?"

Excerpt from _"Reality and Memory and the Sorrows of Aging", _(unpublished) by Professor Emeritus Zei, Ba Sing Se University.

* * *

Aang's head throbbed. His empty stomach rolled and his eyes burned, even though they were closed. His nose felt cold and stuffed. Every muscle in his body ached, screaming with pins and needles. Was he dying? 

His mind fought the heaviness weighing him down in strange, painful dreams. Ghostly impressions of steel and rain slid over his skin and he shuddered, fighting off the cold-fingered sensations trickling over him.

Deep within, he felt…full. More complete, somehow, as though a little gap somewhere inside him had been neatly plugged up. Grasping that sensation, he felt himself descend into a meditative dream trance that momentarily removed the pain, the aches, the reality…and he relaxed with a sigh.

He came to a place that was familiar and not, a place he knew he'd been to before, but couldn't quite identify. The land was shrouded in a silver mist that swirled and clung to him, placing feather-light kisses upon his person. He felt at peace, despite not knowing his surroundings, and drifted about aimlessly, intent on nothing in particular.

Shortly, a woman emerged from the mists and greeted him with her own serene smile. "Hello, Aang."

She was lovely, a taller, older, darker version of Katara. But it wasn't the Waterbender, the little monk knew. Aang would know Katara anywhere…but at the same time, he sensed a bit of his friend in this woman.

He grinned broadly once he recognized her. "Hi. You're Karanna, aren't you?"

She nodded.

"So…I guess things are all right now?" he asked, not completely sure what he was asking. His head felt like it was stuffed with happy cotton and it just seemed like the thing to ask.

"Everyone is safe," Karanna assured him. "And Witch has brought you and your companions back to your camp."

He had no idea what she was talking about, but it sounded dandy. "Will I see you again?"

"I'll always be here," she said. She tilted her head to one side and smiled. "But first, I'm going to take a short vacation."

A man hove into view by her side, his long, raven-wing hair and sharp green eyes glinting with mischief as he wrapped an arm around the Waterbender's waist and lifted her up. Karanna squealed as he spun her around, her blue robes blossoming out as she wheeled about. Twining her arms around his shoulders, the Water woman kissed the dark-haired man passionately before the two danced away into the mist.

"Have fun! See ya later!" he called after them, waving, and sighed. It was nice when there were happy endings.

Little needle-like claws dug into his flesh and he looked up. A large black bird had landed on Aang's shoulder and was watching the last of the Avataress fade away. It _sighed._ Sensing the crow's wistfulness, the monk reached up and stroked the bird's feathers comfortingly. The bird butted his head gently.

"And so we've returned to the beginning of the circle," the crow said solemnly in a husky, oddly familiar voice. He sighed again, hunching his shoulders in a nonchalant shrug. "It could never have been, you know. And Ocean Eyes deserves a mortal to share her life with…." He glanced down at the little monk. "You have to take care of her now," he said, and he seemed to smile sadly. "I'm not the only one who loves her."

Aang nodded in understanding…even if he had no idea what the bird was talking about.

A tall man in white wearing a long, strange mask stepped out from the thickening fog. Mutely, he sketched an awkward bow, and the monk returned it as the crow moved to perch on the newcomer's outstretched arm.

"The Web of Life has been restored," the bird intoned. "But the Spirit World is about to go through a great upheaval. You will need to be there when it happens, or the balance will be destroyed."

He turned that over in his mind briefly before nodding. "Okay," Aang said, and clutched his burbling stomach. It squelched loudly even in the Spirit Realm. "Can I go now? I'm kinda hungry."

The black bird and the white man looked at each other and shrugged.

"Mind your friends, Avatar Aang. They are your greatest assets." The crow flapped his wings in goodbye.

"I will."

With a swoop of his white cape, the masked man engulfed the Airbender and the dream of the Spirit Realm faded. Aang felt himself sink deeper and deeper into darkness as gravity slowly claimed each weighted limb in a leaden grip…

* * *

"Aang! Aang, get up!" 

The little monk's face wrinkled and he turned over, groaning.

"Aang, something's wrong," a sluggish voice sounded in his ear. "Katara won't wake up."

The Avatar instantly snapped awake, though his body was slow to follow. "Katara?" He sat up, and the world spun beneath him. "Sokka…wh-what…what's happening?" Stars exploded before his eyes and his stomach churned hollowly. His joints and limbs sang with soreness.

Sokka knelt next to him, eyes baggy, hair mussed. "I dunno…something's wrong…I can barely…stay…awake…" he yawned hugely.

When Aang managed to focus, he saw a thick, reddish smoke clinging to the moist air around them and recognized the sickly sweet smell immediately. Groggily, he summoned his Airbending powers and moved a strong wind through the camp, dissipating the smoke.

As the air cleared, so did their lungs, and they coughed and hacked and spat. Their heads began to clear a little. Aang groped for the canteen and gulped down several mouthfuls, feeling it flow uncomfortably down his rasping throat. He handed the water skin to Sokka as he leaned over the Waterbender.

"Katara." He shook her gently. "Katara, wake up. Wake up!"

The girl's head lolled about. Aang felt a bead of panic swell within him. What was wrong with her? "Katara! Katara, _please_ wake up!" Carefully, he bent a fresh tendril of air and pushed it through her nostrils and into her lungs, then gently drew out the stale, bad air.

With a surge, she inhaled and sat up gasping and coughing violently. Sokka sagged back in relief, then pounded on his sister's back as she recovered, handing her the water skin.

Now awake, they moved away from the smoldering fire and the sickly red smoke that even now was fighting to rise from the ashes. The sun sparkled through the shushing tree canopy, white-gold light winking through the mottled shadows high above. A chill mountain draft poured down the rocky slopes, sending shivers dancing up their spines.

"What happened? What's going on?" Katara slurred hoarsely, still rubbing crusty sleep from her eyes. She touched the back of her aching head gingerly, her loose tresses in wild disarray. "Ow…"

"I woke up and there was all this smoke around us. It was making me all dizzy…" Sokka scratched his head. "Weird. I had the craziest dream…" He trailed off and washed his hands over his face.

Aang kicked at the fire pit and inspected the cinders closely. He picked something out of the fire and held it up for them to see. "This is what I thought it was—spotted red pine. It gives off a smoke that puts people to sleep." He looked over at Sokka. "You must have accidentally picked some up while you were collecting firewood last night."

"Really? I didn't see any red pines out in the woods." He paused. "I don't think I did, anyhow."

Katara glanced down and gasped. "My dress!" she wailed. "It's ruined!"

The boys looked at her green Kyoshian outfit and saw that it had been torn and singed in places. They puzzled over it as she stripped it off, complaining. "How did this happen? It looks like I was in a fight with a Firebender!"

"And lost," Sokka sniggered. She shot him a daggered look. "Maybe the fire spat some cinders at you," he consoled her. "You're really lucky it wasn't worse and that you didn't get burned."

"And I was so happy about having new clothes, too." She held out the tattered dress and sighed.

Aang smiled. "Don't worry. Once we get to the North Pole, I'm sure you can do some shopping there. Besides, you'd look good in anything."

"Aw, you're sweet." She beamed at the monk then looked at her brother. His brow was wrinkled in thought as he inspected the camp site. "What's wrong, Sokka?"

"I just have this weird feeling." The words made them all shudder for some reason. "Something isn't right about all this. Do you guys remember being so close to the shore when we camped?"

They looked around, seeing the edge of the water about a hundred meters away. "Maybe things just looked different in the dark," Aang suggested warily.

"No, this isn't the right spot. When I went to bed, there was a tree over there." He pointed. "I was leaning against it most of the night."

"Maybe the _trees_ moved," Katara said ominously, but the Water boy ignored her jibe.

"When we went to bed, I was sleeping on _that_ side. How did I get way over here?" He indicated the area around the fire pit. "This doesn't make any sense."

The other two looked at each other. "What are you saying? That someone came in the night and moved us?"

He pursed his lips tightly and began to check their packs for missing supplies or anything else that had been tampered with. "Where are Momo and Appa?" he asked, his voice rising in consternation.

Just then, the two Air beasts came stumbling into view. Appa lowed in greeting and Momo chirruped and landed on Aang's outstretched arm. "Hey, buddy." He blanched at the thin, scabbed-over cuts crisscrossing his ears. "What happened to you? Where did you get these?" He ran his fingers through the little creature's fur and found more scabbed-over wounds. The lemur stared back at him innocently, flinching when the monk touched his hurts.

"He probably got into a scuffle with something," Katara said gently. "Is he okay? I can heal him up in a jiffy."

Appa grunted. The bison seemed nervous.

Sokka, however, was spooked. "Guys, something really weird is going on here. I think we should figure out just how Katara's dress got ruined, and how we ended up so far from our own camp. We should find out where we were originally then look around the area for clues about what happened."

Aang and Katara were about to agree when a loud caw broke into their thoughts and they all looked up.

High above in the branch of a gnarled, dead tree sat a huge black crow, its glossy feathers glinting in the sun. It glared menacingly down at them, its beak half-open, hissing. It bleated again, and this time, its cry was answered by a myriad other calls, growing louder and angrier.

The trio craned their necks upward, and they bristled with head-to-toe goose bumps.

The mottled shadows above weren't made by leaves. They were made by crows. Thousands of them.

Momo shrieked in terror and burrowed into the neck hole of Aang's tunic.

Katara backed up against a restless Appa. "Uh…guys…?"

A swath of black fury swooped over their heads, screeching as they scattered.

"I think that's our cue to leave," Sokka said quickly, and they scrambled to haul their gear into Appa's saddle. Over the deafening din of the cries overhead, Katara barely had the chance to ask if any of the boys had packed her things up because she didn't remember her backpack being so neatly put together. Sokka wondered how the clasps on his sleeping bag had been torn. And Aang was wondering why he had the impression the birds were _laughing_ at them.

When their step faltered or they lagged just a little, the birds renewed their attack, diving in and skimming over their heads, talons and beaks flashing. They didn't seem to be interested in actually hurting them; they were just trying to drive them away, which, Aang later explained, was why he didn't use his Airbending on them.

Finally, they piled into the litter and were ready to go. "C'mon boy, yip-yip!" the monk cried. With a whuff, Appa leapt into the sky, quickly gaining altitude. A half dozen birds followed them, screaming avidly, chasing the behemoth intruder and his passengers out of their coveted territory and only veering away once they'd left the shoreline and the strange, misty land far behind.

Everyone sat back and stared at each other in bewilderment.

"Okay, that was really, _really_ creepy." Katara shuddered.

"On the scale of weird animal attacks we've survived, I'd rate that between the Unagi and the canyon crawlers," Sokka said. He looked at Aang, who'd gone a touch green and was clinging to his stomach. "Hey, are you all right?"

"Just really hungry." His stomach gurgled loudly and he revised his assessment. "No, wait, I'm _starving._"

"C'mon back here, Aang. Appa knows the way North. I'll break out the bread and apples and we can have a sky picnic breakfast!"

The night and the land below them forgotten, they did just that, chattering blithely away, heading farther and farther away from the Corvidae sanctuary, the land of cold, swirling mists and forgotten memories. Thoughts of that peculiar morning dissipated in the rising sun and then it was like it had never happened.

And so they journeyed on to the North Pole, toward their destiny.

* * *

"WEEKS?" Zuko screamed. 

Iroh held his hands up. "The damage could have been much, much worse, Prince Zuko. If that crow hadn't tried to build its nest in the main flue, we might all have been killed by those bounty hunters while we slept."

They'd pulled ten bodies from the water, and found ten more in the boiler room. From what the old general had surmised by looking at the charred corpses, it seemed that these men had drugged them all in their sleep with some kind of red pine powder they'd managed to sneak into the boiler's heating system. The bird's nest blocking up the flue had stopped up the exhaust, causing the boiler to explode and kill the men.

The would-be invaders had also tried to blow a hole in the lower cargo hold, it seemed, and had stupidly killed themselves in the process—probably with the use of too much blasting jelly, Iroh had deduced.

"But what were they after?" Zuko asked, exasperated. "We have nothing of value on board."

"You mean, apart from you, the crown prince of the Fire Nation?" Iroh arched an eyebrow at him. "I think you underestimate your value as a hostage, Prince Zuko."

The look on the young man's face was skeptical, if not incredulous. He rubbed his bruised jaw thoughtfully, as though trying to figure it all out.

"I guess we'll never know now," the general said on a sigh, nodding toward the miniboat chugging slowly to the mainland with the bodies. They'd be cremated as soon as they reached the shore, and then the boat would travel to the nearest port to request a tow and begin repairs.

Zuko looked preoccupied. "I just don't understand. Why did they trash the brig and tear a giant hole in our cargo hold? And in the deck! What were they looking for?"

"I'll make sure we do a thorough search of the ship to check if we are missing anything. I did have some valuable items stashed away in the cargo area." Iroh said. "Who knows? Maybe I have a secret treasure map locked away in some bargain I picked up." His eyes glittered at the very idea.

Zuko doubted that, considering the junk his uncle bought whenever they put into port. But instead, he said, "See that you do. In the meantime, I want these repairs started immediately. I want this ship in working order as soon as possible. Not weeks. _Days._ Bribe anyone you need to get the work done. I'll make some inquiries to see if anyone's seen the Avatar in the area."

"Or his companions," Iroh prompted.

Zuko stared at him. "What?"

"His companions—the lemur, the Water Tribe boy, and…the girl."

The prince's bland expression didn't change. _"And…?"_

"I was just making sure we were on the same track." The old man beamed, looking a little relieved. He sobered. "One more thing, Zuko. Two of the men…Juno and Ching…their bodies were discovered in the brig. It seems they were the only two still awake when the bounty hunters attacked. They put up quite a fight."

Zuko closed his eyes and swore. He didn't know the soldiers under him well, but he felt the loss deeply. He knew he had a loyal crew—a precious commodity for an exiled prince—and the loss of one soldier was as bad as losing an entire platoon. "Make sure they get all the proper burial rites and military decorations. And send stipends to the families." He sighed. "I'll write letters."

The prince began to walk away, but his uncle stopped him. "Zuko," he called, and the young man turned. "I'm proud of you."

He blinked. "For what?"

"A lot of things," Iroh replied, an enigmatic smile crossing his face. "You're a good commander. You're doing right by those soldiers."

An inscrutable expression flitted over his marble features. "I do what I have to."

He walked away without another word.

* * *

"I could practically smell you coming," the commander growled. "Don't you ever bathe?" 

"And waste good stench on the river?" Witch asked wryly. "I much prefer torturing you."

"Charming." His sneer faded, and he began to languidly tap a small paring knife against the edge of his desk. "You know, since the last time you came around, I've been reconsidering our agreement." The man stood and began pacing, peering at his fingernails. "It'd be just as easy to pay someone else to follow Prince Zuko around. Or better yet, bribe one of his crew members to send constant dispatches. But," he steepled his fingers, "it turns out that he's moored his ship in the town nearby, and requires extensive repairs. He won't be leaving anytime soon. That said, I do believe your services are no longer required."

The woman didn't respond.

"Strange, though—" the man eyed her "—how that damage must have been rendered. Blasting jelly explosions on the outer hull…a grenade detonation in the brig...and that peculiar hole that was bored straight through to the upper deck_ from the inside."_ He paused, spearing a slice of apple with his paring knife and nibbling it delicately. "Some of it almost coincides with what General Iroh's been telling us… Almost." He snapped his head around and looked directly at her. "He said bounty hunters had attacked them in their sleep. I wonder what they could possibly have been after? It's not every day that those criminal lowlifes band together for a common cause."

Witch shuffled her feet. The commander narrowed his gaze and leered.

"Rumour has it they were being led by the infamous Manua, the one they call 'The Thinker.' But since the bodies were all cremated before we could identify them, there's no telling who they were."

"Scum and dirt are the same anywhere you find them," Witch said airily, and sent him a menacing look. "As slime, you should know that."

The commander frowned. "Considering we have one witness who knew what these men were up to, I'd suggest you keep your little comments to a minimum, hag." He advanced on her, his face twisting into an ugly sneer. "You see, I have my own little birdies, my own spies. They tell me you've been up to some interesting things." He stroked his goatee. "Some nights back, you were seen entering the establishment of a known fraud artist and criminal, Bori the tavern keeper. His remains were found just outside of town near your territory, picked apart by the birds, apparently. Would you happen to know anything about that?"

Witch shrugged. "There are a lot of nasties in the woods. Maybe a dingo-coyote got him."

"Well, then, explain this to me." The commander's eyes blazed. "You were seen traveling towards Prince Zuko's ship the same night I received reports of some almost _supernatural_ avian activity in the area." He paused, his face contorting into a snarl. "I got further reports that the Avatar had been seen in the area. My witness, a near-sighted old man who'd just bought himself a nice fishing boat, told me he'd been commissioned by the prince to capture a Water Tribe girl, who was apparently in the company of a bald monk. And then rumour had it that he'd been captured by Prince Zuko himself."

"Really?" she asked, sounding bored. "How interesting."

Irked by her flippancy, the commander growled. "Let me tell you what I think happened." He drew himself up. "You knew the Avatar was in the area, but wanted the bounty from the Fire Lord all to yourself. But the exiled prince managed to snatch him up before you did. So you sicced Manua and his team on his ship by telling that despicable tavern keeper. Once the ship and its crew were disabled, all you had to do was kill the bounty hunters and take the Avatar away from them, but the Airbender managed to escape you!" A look of triumph lit the man's face. "That's what happened, isn't it?"

Witch stared long and hard at him, then laughed. "My, but you have quite an imagination. And a keen mind, too." She made a hideous moue at him. "Tell me, did they make you commander based on your ability to write fiction?"

"Are you denying that you purposefully hid your knowledge of the Avatar's presence in your territory from me?" he demanded. "That, by not informing the Fire Nation of the Avatar's whereabouts, you aided and abetted the enemy's escape?"

Witch raised an eyebrow. "The only enemies I have are the one who try to take advantage of my services," she returned sharply, "without giving me my dues."

"Oh, you'll get your dues all right. Guards!" the commander barked. Two men entered and grabbed a hold of the hag under each arm. She didn't struggle. "Take this _woman_ into custody. She is to be tried and executed for crimes against the Fire Nation."

Witch chuckled. The sound became a deep-throated cackle and she sighed dramatically, a weary simper on her face.

"Really, when will you ever learn?" She grinned up at him with her mouthful of rotting teeth. Her silver-grey eyes wandered heavenward.

They heard the softest _caw._ Feeling the backs of their necks prickle, the men slowly looked up into the shadowed rafters.

A shimmer of movement in the dark became hundreds of beady eyes all turning to regard them covetously.

"What—!"

Their startled cries were abruptly cut off as a grating screech pierced their ears and the world became a tempest of black feathers.

* * *

"You're sure of this?" 

The grey-haired woman in rags nodded silently. The large, black bird perching on her shoulder stared back at the Fire Nation commander with bright, defiant eyes.

The commander made some notes on a roll of parchment and removed a small satchel of coins from his desk drawer, tossing it to her. She caught it neatly and frowned at its weight.

"You're short three gold pieces," she said, irritated, and tossed the satchel back without opening it. "You know my price."

The commander scoffed and stroked his pointed beard. "My good lady," he drawled. "The Fire Nation must keep its war machine going. Surely you can spare your share of the taxes."

Witch regarded him steadily a moment. Then she shrugged. "Eh. I suppose I could. But you'll have to tell the princess that I must tender my resignation." She folded her arms under her shabby cloak. "It seems to me the pickings are going to be slim for the next little while anyhow, what with that little princeling moored in town for the next few weeks." She tossed her matted dreadlocks. "I doubt Her Highness will be interested in hearing about how that boy is just stomping around like a platypus-bear in a mood. I certainly have better things to do than baby-sit him." She snorted derisively.

The commander shot to his feet. "You don't get to turn your back on Her Royal Highness," he growled. "You serve at the mercy of the Fire Nation and at Princess Azula's pleasure!"

Above them, the enormous crow that was the witch's familiar let out an angry, warning cry.

She smirked. "Well," she drawled, rolling her eyes, "if it _pleases_ Her Highness…"

A blur of motion, and Witch had crossed the small space, rusty scythes flashing grimly. With a powerful chop, she slammed the thick, heavy pommel of her weapons against the base of the man's neck, and he collapsed onto the floor, incapacitated but alive. She hooked open the desk drawer. Holstering one blade, the woman scooped up the remaining pouches of money carelessly stowed away in the drawer the commander never locked because he never learned, and held them aloft.

"You may consider our transactions complete. Consider this my severance pay." She flashed a hideous smile and jumped onto the desk just as the two guards outside barreled in through the tent flaps. They stared around agape, once again too late to protect their assaulted commander or their helmets as Bai-Bai shat on their heads.

The Witch of the Woods sent them a malicious, all-encompassing grin. "Let me leave you _kind gentlemen_ with one piece of news worth buying," she proclaimed and pointed her weapon at them.

"The Avatar has returned!" She declared, then lowered her voice to a hiss. _"And he is going to kill you all."_

And as before, because no one could remember her doing it time and time again, she slit a hole in the back of the tent and hurtled out, flying into the forest with the big black bird soaring in her wake, laughing.

* * *

**Stick around, because there's still one more chapter after this!**


	31. Epilogue

**Welcome to the end of _The Game. _Thank you all for reading and leaving wonderful reviews! I wouldn't be writing without your praise.  
**

* * *

**Epilogue**

* * *

_Let's assume you were right  
And play the game of charm and strange  
And satellite  
And when we've all had our fun  
Deflate the stars  
And put away the sun  
And so we can call it a day_

_'Cause I'll never prove that my motives were pure  
So let's remove any question of cure  
'Cause even though you've made it pretty obscure  
Baby, it's clear, from here—  
You're losing your atmosphere  
From here, you're losing it….  
_

_—_Aimee Mann, "Satellite", Bachelor No.2 (2001)

* * *

"The events directly following these strange, forgotten days you already know. But what you probably didn't know, and what I learned much, much later, included some rather inexplicable circumstances…."

* * *

**Second Sight**

* * *

Sokka had no idea when he'd picked up the Firebender's face plate—that skull-like visage wasn't exactly a memento he cared to keep, especially tucked into the folds of his tunic so close to his heart. 

But that night, once everyone else had gone to sleep, he lay down and held it up to the sky, gazing up at the stars and the waxing half moon through the eyeholes.

And for once—though not for the first time—he wondered what it was like to be one of _them._

* * *

**A Draught from the Well of Strength**

* * *

"You want to learn to fight so bad? Study closely!" 

And she did.

But it felt like she knew all the moves, knew exactly what the chauvinistic Waterbending master would do next. And it wasn't just keen reflexes that allowed her anticipate and counter each of his attacks….

A touch of something beyond her own abilities and instincts guided her through bending forms she'd never performed in her life—forms that were suddenly as clear as daylight in her mind. She commanded the frozen waves, the ice disks, the surges and swells of snow and sleet with all the raw talent of a prodigy…

…Or a seasoned master…

And though she lost, it didn't occur to her until later just how much power she had wielded.

* * *

**Made To Last**

* * *

It wasn't mistrust or curiosity that kept Jee from dropping the subject. He was just so stubborn and hard-headed that no explanation the retired general gave satisfied him. 

He still couldn't figure out how that perfectly round hole had been bored through several feet of metal and piping, from the brig up to the main deck; or how the bounty hunters had managed to sneak aboard and sabotage the ship so thoroughly. He felt there should be a deeper investigation, before the repairs were completed so thoroughly they wouldn't be able to study the damage in detail. He voiced his concerns to the old general.

"Shoddy craftsmanship doesn't deserve a second thought," Iroh had grunted in dismissal over his teacup. He sighed. "They just don't make ships like they used to," he complained sullenly.

No one else questioned the revered military man's explanation of the events surrounding the unfortunate and near-fatal encounter with the bounty hunters…but it just didn't sit right with the lieutenant.

"Remember how that Xirxiu tore off the deck plating over the fore cargo hold like it was paper?" Iroh tsked. "I tell you, back in my day, they made ships to last…"

Hearing a rambling, drawn-out story coming on, Jee quickly refilled the retired general's teacup to keep him from regaling him with his extensive reminisces, then reminded him that Music Night would begin very soon, and would Prince Zuko perhaps like to play the Sungi horn for them tonight?

* * *

**Belated**

* * *

Back in the Air temples, birthdays were always celebrated with fruit cakes topped with fluffy, flavoured icing. The boys would gather for Airball tournaments and other games, followed by a kingly vegetarian feast. And the birthday boy would receive a blessing and one humble, treasured gift from the temple monks: a toy, a piece of pottery, a poetry scroll, a new pair of shoes, or even, if he had been especially good, a new glider. 

Despite the simplicity of the celebrations, every little monk looked forward to his birthday.

So it was with a start that Aang realized he'd forgotten all about celebrating his natal day—the first one in over a hundred years. Thirteen was, after all, a big number for him: the first of his teen years, the first step out of adolescence… How could he have forgotten?

Then again, in his frantic quest to master the elements and save the world, it wasn't inconceivable that he had overlooked it...

* * *

**Waterlogged**

* * *

It must have been the adrenaline or the onset of hypothermia, because when he slipped into the sacred oasis sanctuary and spotted the Water Tribe girl standing by the Avatar, his heart snagged, squeezed and began hammering between his ears. 

"He's my friend," he heard her say cheerfully. "I'm perfectly capable of protecting him." Her mellifluous voice echoed in his soul and called to him, like a siren song from a distant dream…

But the strange moment evaporated as he refocused.

"Well, aren't you a big girl now?"

What a strange choice of words, Zuko thought as shock and dismay registered on the Waterbender's face. He'd never seen the girl as either little or big, young or old—only as the enemy.

* * *

**Turning Tricks (Waterlogged, part II)  
**

* * *

He hit the ground face-first, jouncing his already bruised ribs. A white-hot lance of pain seared his chest. The smell of crushed grass filled his nostrils as he inhaled sharply to keep from crying out. 

"I see you've learned a new trick," he gritted, pushing himself up with as much dignity as he could manage.

And why had he assumed that? Zuko shook his head, trying the clear the creeping fog in his brain, a silvery and luminous shape that seemed to be trying to coalesce into an obscure memory, or a dream of a memory….

He'd never fought the girl before, never studied her all that closely, or so he told himself. His focus had always been on the little Airbending monk.

So how would he know anything about the Waterbender's techniques?

* * *

**Shooting Stars**

* * *

"Look! That must be Aang!" 

They followed where she led. No one questioned what Katara had seen because none of them had—or could—see it. Girls had sharper eyes, anyhow, right?

But just what had she seen through the mass of fat flurries blowing around them? The flutter of orange robes? The blue-white glow of the Avatar's tattoos? What else could it have been? Certainly not the bright streak of the Avatar's spirit arcing across the sky; because only the Avatar, being the bridge between the real and Spirit worlds and all, could see Spirits…right?

_Right?_

* * *

**Bigger Fish**

* * *

"_The Spirits are not to be trifled with…"_

Iroh had learned that the hard way. But as much as he disliked Zhao and would have gladly seen to it that the arrogant admiral learn that lesson, too, a gut feeling (and his enormous gut was fairly accurate) told him _this_ was the moment he had to intervene. The critical event he'd learned about from the Crow Spirit was upon them.

Indeed, his Spirit eye could detect the faint, restless stirrings of the otherworldly plain, and if he squinted just so, he could almost make out a tall figure in white, gesturing, pointing toward the Water Tribe palace, _that way, that way, hurry, hurry, hurry…_

* * *

**Lucky**

* * *

"…And then she said he'd kill us all," the crusty old soldier laughed, slapping Li in the arm. "Can you believe that? That crazy old hag thinks a little Airbending monk can defeat a whole invasion force!" 

The young private ignored the older soldier and focused his attention on the water. Ever since Admiral Zhao had taken him and the rest of Prince Zuko's crew and troops for this invasion force, he'd had an uneasy feeling. _Something_ was going to happen, and the anticipation had him on edge. He simply hadn't been able to shake this sense of foreboding that hung over his head, even though he'd been excluded from the landing parties and left behind on the boat.

The other men had called him "lucky."

"As if a little boy can do anything to hurt us way out here," the other soldier drawled on. "I say, come and get us! They only leave the best behind to protect the ships, you know," he boasted.

Li scowled behind the stifling face-plate. He didn't think it was wise to tempt Fate, and he was certain his junior status had landed him in the same category as the slightly tipsy private he was currently on the watch with. What a disgrace.

_He_ certainly had more discipline than the half-drunk cretin. Prince Zuko would never have tolerated such lewd behaviour. If Lieutenant Jee were here…

But Jee wasn't here: He was serving on Zhao's flagship along with General Iroh. For once in his life, the young private found he missed the reassuring presence of the two older, more experienced men. They would have put this man in his place.

But this wasn't Prince Zuko's ship. That was becoming more and more evident by the second.

He looked up at the sky again and wondered what had happened to the moon. It had been a cloudless night a moment ago, but now, it was unnaturally dark and things felt…wrong, somehow. That had only amplified his dread.

And then a bluish glow had filled the great city's interior. Every one of Li's hairs had stood on end until the light had faded, plunging the seas into darkness once more.

Since his ship was on the very outskirts of the patrol area, the private could hardly see anything that was happening in the hot zone, but he didn't dare leave his post for a telescope. So there was nothing more he could do but watch and.wait...

_What in the world was going on over there?_

"Heh, look at that! Those Water Tribe barbarians are going to try to attack us with more waves." The soldier pointed at the swell of water rising from near the base of the ruined wall. That strange and beautiful luminescence pulsed from within the black depths.

Li suddenly had a very, very bad feeling.

"These ships have so much ballast, they'd never be able to flip us!" The soldier laughed heartily and slapped the young man again on the back.

The hump in the water grew, and the eerie blue-white light it emitted intensified as it rose. Li's stomach somersaulted with fear.

"Huh," the other soldier muttered as the rampaging Spirit of the Ocean reared its head. "Now there's a trick I've never seen before…."

* * *

**Lessons Relearned**

* * *

He felt her body become nothing, her warmth evaporating from his embrace. 

Her kiss, her words…she had expressed her love for him, for her people, without regret or resentment. She had willingly given up her life to restore the balance, to save the world, including everyone who lived in the Fire Nation.

She'd felt no anger or hatred in the end. She needed no vengeance. She only wanted to save those she loved…

And so did he.

He glanced over at the saddle, and was not surprised to see their captive had escaped. They had thanklessly saved Zuko from a cold, lonely, bitter demise, despite Sokka's protests. But he knew deep down it had been the right thing to do—the _Aang_ thing to do.

Would Zuko do the same for any of them? He would have liked to think so…but it was hard to imagine.

The Water Tribe warrior slid his watery gaze to the old man—Zuko's uncle, a man he should have loathed simply because of his nationality—and felt…nothing. What purpose would holding him captive serve? He had helped save the Moon Spirit, helped save the world….he did not deserve persecution or punishment. He deserved…

"C'mon," Sokka prompted his sister, purposefully ignoring the Fire Nation general. "We should find Aang."

Without another glance behind them, they left that place of life and death.

And somehow, though he didn't turn to look back, Sokka knew General Iroh was smiling at him with gratitude. Because Sokka had given him and his nephew the one thing they both deserved most:

A chance.

* * *

"There were plenty of other instances where things just didn't add up or make a whole lot of sense," the old man insisted, "but all those involved deny that those events ever occurred, of course, because they don't remember." He sighed a little wistfully. "It's probably a good thing, though, considering that the Spirits and gods involved themselves in the whole fiasco. I suspect Fate and the Keeper of Dreams and Memories were not the only players in this game. 

"As for the spiritual tether between Zuko and Katara…well, it never faded. Not really. An indelible bond had been forged between them, something deeper and more profound than a Spirit tie. Of course, Katara's soul was fused with her brother and the Avatar's, as well, but her connection to Zuko was especially strong. They would never admit it, but they could sometimes sense each other—what they were feeling, and when the other were nearby. Sometimes, their moods would shift dramatically if the other was particularly distressed or agitated.

"For a long time, I thought it was their natural dispositions as benders of Water and Fire—both can be extremely fluid, dynamic and passionate, you know. But I eventually began to see a pattern of behavior when we started traveling together. If one was happy and the other sad, they would either reach a middle ground, or else the one with the dominant mood would infect the other. It was all rather dramatic: Zuko was an angry young man who was so full of love he didn't know how to give; and Katara could be deceptively cheerful, when she was in fact prone to fits of depression. I'm certain they found their mood swings equally bewildering, but I guess most people chalked them up to teen angst. Let me just say their constant emotional battles played havoc on all our nerves."

He chuckled lightly and sipped his tea. "All things said and done, the bond brought them closer together. I do not think there is another pair in the world as well suited as Katara and Zuko are.

"Mind you, I've always had my suspicions that their relationship may have been the result of divine intervention. But who am I to question what the Spirits do? The results were more than satisfactory, if you ask me." He grinned. "Obviously, you know what happened to them in their later years, though I doubt you're interested in _that_ story, being so young."

Two pairs of eyes, both glowing yellow against olive-tinged complexions, appraised the old man with skepticism.

"You're making stuff up again, Yeh-Yeh," the elder child complained. "Dad never caught the Avatar, and he never had Mom on his ship. Dad says he and Mom fought with the Avatar, and that they used to be enemies before they got married."

"That's also true," Iroh conceded with a broad smile, "but just because they can't remember, doesn't mean it didn't happen."

"Well, I liked the story," the younger child said with a wide grin for the man she called grandfather. "My favourite is still the Witch lady. She's scary, but kinda nice, too. And kinda funny."

"It's important not to judge people by the way they look," the old general advised her sagely. "You remember that, princess."

"But Dad's smarter than that," the elder child complained again. "I mean, no offense Yeh-Yeh, but you couldn't possibly explain how a perfectly round hole went through the deck, even if you tricked Commander Jee into forgetting about it. Dad would never let that kind of thing go."

"I think you underestimate your father's…er, capacity for obsession." Iroh grimaced. "He was rather of a one-track mind back then."

The boy ignored his explanation. "And the Witch woman—if she just went around wiping people's minds all the time, wouldn't she get in trouble with the Spirits or something? Wouldn't reality break down if she kept messing around with people's memories? And what about the moon? Would they notice that it was suddenly a half moon instead of a new moon? Mom would know about those kinds of things…."

Iroh sighed tiredly as the young prince poked more holes in his plot than a badger-mole in a mountain. He was definitely getting too old for bedtime stories.

"And besides," the boy went on, "Mom and Dad have never mentioned anything about any of those events. From what Dad said, you guys pulled in for repairs a few weeks before the Siege of the Northern Water Tribe, and then pirates almost killed him and blew up his ship. And then—"

"He was there, son, he knows what happened."

The siblings spun around. "Daddy!" they cried simultaneously, and raced into the Fire Lord's outstretched arms. He caught his son first and hugged him tightly.

"I thought you wouldn't be home until next week!" the young prince exclaimed.

"Change of plans," the Fire Lord said mildly, and smiled over at his old relative. "Did they behave?"

Iroh shrugged. "They were as well-behaved as can be expected…considering who their parents are." He smirked.

"Haw-haw, very funny." Zuko picked up his daughter and slung her still-pudgy form against his hip. "Has Yeh-Yeh been telling you lies about me and your mother again? If he is, maybe you can see him and me fight an Agni Kai." He grinned widely, a wicked glint in his eyes.

"I like his stories!" the little princess protested. She suddenly grew very serious. "No Agni Kais, Daddy!" she declared with a scowl, wagging an admonishing finger at him. "You might hurt someone again!"

Zuko arched an eyebrow at his uncle. "Have you been telling them the _adult_ version of that story?" he asked.

"Oh, no, just the usual Fire Nation bedtime-story stuff, you know. Bloodshed, violence, the obligatory kissing scene…"

The young prince scrunched his face up and stuck his tongue out in disgust.

"I only expounded upon a few details for my guest's benefit," Iroh explained, gesturing to the slight man in the corner who had been diligently taking notes.

He stood now and bowed to the Fire Lord reverently. "Your Majesty."

"Good evening, Professor Zei," Zuko nodded in acknowledgement. "I hope you don't take my uncle's tall tales as fact for the Knowledge Spirit's library—they're more suited to fiction."

"Even in the most fantastic tales, there is a modicum of truth," Zei replied with an enigmatic smile. To Iroh he bowed deeply. "Thank you for sharing your story with me, Your Highness. I must retire so that I can make notes, but would it be all right to call on you if I have any questions?"

The old man nodded and bid him a good evening, and the young prince and princess bowed respectfully to their tutor before he exited.

"I do say, he's become worldlier since leaving that musky old library," Iroh mused. "And he's surprisingly good with the children."

"The Avatar chose wisely," Zuko agreed, and looked at his children, "assuming you like your tutor?"

"He's funny," the prince said thoughtfully. "Not ha-ha funny, but he does teach us some interesting things."

"I like it when he teaches about animals!" the princess declared and then gripped her father's collar. "Daddy, can we go to Kyoshi and ride the elephant koi?"

Zuko pursed his lips to stifle a laugh. "We'll see, dear. You kids go on and get ready for bed." Zuko put his daughter down and scooted them away. "I need to speak with your grandfather."

The brother and sister raced off, eager to obey their Fire Lord and father's command. Zuko watched them go, feeling a sweet ache in his heart.

"So, you still don't believe it happened?" Iroh asked, slurping his tea.

"I know better than to listen to your crazy stories, old man," the Fire Lord said with a bit of a smile. "Besides which, you haven't given us any hard proof, except in circumstantial evidence."

Iroh twisted his lips into a knowing smirk. "You should go speak to your wife."

"I will, presently." A honeyed warmth filled his soul. He was saving the best visit for last, of course.

"Just go see her."

A feeling of cold dread trickled into his heart. "Uncle, is something wrong?"

Iroh shook his head, but not trusting him entirely, Zuko excused himself and hastened to the Fire Lady's suite, a bud of panic threatening to blossom within him. Had something happened to his beloved?

His step was light and quick, nearly mute but for the rustle of his billowing silk over-robes. The leather soles of his shoes squeaked against the spotless black marble as he strode down the long corridor, slapping loudly when he broke into a scurry, a jog, and then an all-out run. Every jarring step loosened more fears: Was she ill? Had someone been harassing her? Was there bad news about her aging grandmother? Her father? Oh, gods, what about Sokka's children? What news of the Avatar? They had not heard from Aang in weeks…

He burst into her suite, a little winded not from his exertions, but from the trepidation that made his heart pound against the ribcage. _Calm, calm, be calm…_Uncle's voice pleaded. No, it couldn't be so bad, or else he would have met with the news as soon as he'd arrived home.

He called her name through the darkened rooms, smothering the anxiety in his voice. No reply came. To his relief, he found her sitting in the window seat in her boudoir, reading by the blue-white light of the moon and the soft gold glow of an oil lamp. Her brow was creased in concentration, her lips moving as she read.

Warmth spread through him at the very sight of her alive and well. Gods, but she was beautiful. Dark auburn hair flowed in wavy cascades over her shoulders; her mocha skin glowed in the ruddy light; and those keen blue eyes, wide and bright, shone like moonlight on the ocean.

Desire slugged him in the gut and a surge of lust flowed thickly through his veins. He wondered at how he could have failed to notice such radiant beauty in his youth, back when they were both just teens struggling to find themselves. And it was not just her fresh, exotic looks that he'd neglected to appreciate—she'd always been a force to be reckoned with, not just in her bending prowess but in her fiery temper, as well. Oh, to see her rail like thunder! No woman of the Fire Nation had her spark of life, or her steel will.

They'd truly been a match, once he'd gotten over his stubbornness and she over her grudge against him. He thought about all that time in the bygone days of their youth wasted on spiteful, heated words, politicking and bargaining when they could have been exploring their mutual passions in each other's arms.

To think it had taken a jealous little Air monk to get him to really notice the Waterbender and take action!

Regal-looking even in her simple robes of blue, the Fire Lady was so intent on the little gilt-edged volume in her hands that she hadn't heard her husband enter. He smiled wryly. She was always so studious when it came to her books. With a gesture, the Fire Lord made the lamp brighten and flare with gold sparks, and she flinched away from it, snatching her book away.

"Katara."

She turned and sent him a huge smile. "Hi, Zuko."

In two long strides, the Fire Lord crossed the room and embraced his wife, raining kisses over her face, drinking from her lips as a parched man at an oasis would. But despite his amorous intentions, the Waterbender seemed distracted.

"What's wrong, my love?" he murmured in her hair. She stood a little apart from him.

"It came to me again last night," she said a little hesitantly, drawing him down beside her on the bench. "The dream about the crow and the man in white."

Zuko pressed his lips together, squeezing her hand. "Tell me about it."

She turned back to gaze out the window. "We were in the Spirit Realm again. The crow and a man in white were there, as usual. But this time, there was a woman, too."

"A woman?"

"An Earth Kingdom woman. She was…old, but not that old. She had a young spirit. And she was…well, not very attractive. Somehow, I felt like I knew her." She looked into his face. "Zuko, I think she was the witch woman from your uncle's story."

He straightened. They'd both heard Iroh tell that bedtime story enough times to have each conjured up their own versions and visions of it in their imaginations. But Katara sounded very confident of the woman's identity.

"She just stood there, giggling like this was all a grand joke. But that's not the weird part," Katara went on, tunneling her fingers through her hair. "When I woke up, a giant crow was perching on the balcony. And he was…_watching_ me." Her cheeks reddened.

Zuko's skin prickled. Bitter jealousy coursed hotly through him, and for a moment, he was bewildered by his reaction. For Spirits' sake, it was just a bird! He tempered himself and let her continue in earnest.

"Before it flew away, the bird dropped something onto the terrace." She went to her desk and picked it up to show her husband.

It was a hand scythe, the wooden pommel grey and cracked with age. Something about that crescent shape, the reddish-brown flecks of rust on the keen, serrated blade, and the menacing glint of the metal made Zuko think about a wild woman's rasping laughter. He reached out and tapped the blade with a fingernail. It twanged discordantly, and he shivered.

"What do you think it means?" she asked.

Zuko chewed his lip. His uncle wasn't one to play practical jokes, especially when they were at Katara's expense. Neither were his children. No one else, save the Avatar and her brother, knew about these dreams she'd been having since she was a teenager. So who would have left this eerie token for the Fire Lady?

His heart squeezed at the distress he saw marring the Water woman's delicate features. "I don't know," he answered truthfully. He soothed his fingers over her soft cheek, tilting her chin up to look into her sparkling eyes. "But the Spirits will give us the answers in time. Trust in them."

"You're right." Katara nodded after a moment. "I guess I've been hanging out with your uncle too much. He's put all kinds of fanciful stories into my head…" She gave a rueful little laugh.

"My uncle is many things. But above all, he is wise and trustworthy, and has even been known to tell the truth now and again." He grinned. "Let's just keep our minds open to the possibilities. I suppose we can all accept a little fantasy in our lives, can't we?"

Katara giggled. "I don't know when it happened, Zuko, but you turned out all right," she jibed, then wrapped her arms around his torso and squeezed him tightly, sighing. "Thank you."

He slid his arms around her shoulders, cocking a smile. "For what?"

"For just being you."

His heart warmed. He held her like that for a while, basking in the moon's soft light, then suggested they go to bed. While she conducted her toilette, he visited the children, who were already both asleep, and tucked them both in. How they had grown in such a short period! He would never cease marveling at what he and Katara had created together.

Exiting the prince and princess's room, he made one last stop to ensure his uncle had taken his medicine. Iroh didn't like to be babied, but Zuko loved him too much to leave him be. He bid the revered general a good night, then retired to his lady's suite, finding his wife already dozing lightly in bed.

As he shucked his clothes, he glimpsed the little book Katara had been reading, lying open on the window seat. The book was marked on a picture of a strange looking black bird. He picked it up and read the caption:

_Samjokoh, the three-legged crow who serves Agni and carries the sun across the sky on his back. _

His scalp prickled as a hazy memory surfaced; memories of nights around the great mantel eating sticky dessert cakes, while Uncle told stories harking back to the days before Firebenders, when Agni and the Spirits had walked the earth. One particular legend stood out in his mind, and it seemed strange that he hadn't remembered it until now.

Uncle had once mentioned that the Crow figured in a great many tales, even beyond the Fire Nation. Not only was the Crow a trickster, but he also had many guises and many counterparts. Uncle's bedtime story and Katara's dreams both mentioned the man in white, the Crow's spiritual half…

But what if there was another part to the whole? A third leg to be counted?

Three legs…three guises…three parts to a whole. The bird, the man…and the crow-talker woman….

Was that who the woman in Katara's dream was? Another incarnation of the Crow? Assuming that the crow named Bai-Bai from Uncle's story and the crow from Katara's dream were one and the same, was it not then possible that Bai-Bai was, in fact, Samjokoh disguised as a lesser Spirit? Could it be that Agni had sent his servant to do his work?

If so, what games had the Spirits and gods _really_ been playing with their lives?

He shuddered, then chastised himself in the next heartbeat. _Ridiculous._ Uncle was a consummate storyteller, after all—it seemed he'd managed to plant his far-fetched ideas into the Fire Lord's head, too.

"Zuko," Katara murmured drowsily, "come to bed."

Tamping down these disturbing thoughts, Zuko turned his attention back to the present and gratefully crawled under the cool, silk sheets next to Katara. He leaned on his elbow and watched his wife, her mocha skin silvered by the glow of the moon.

She was his most trusted advisor, his truest friend, his greatest ally, his most worthy opponent, his life, his love, his Fire Lady. He wondered how Fate could have cursed him with such a tumultuous and star-crossed youth as his had been, then rewarded him with such a wondrous mate. Truly, Fate was a strange mistress, but he thanked the Spirits everyday that he was who he was and that he had lived the extraordinary life he did.

"Whatcha' lookin' at?" she asked sleepily, though her eyes were still closed. "You haven't been away that long."

"On the contrary," Zuko said as he began to reacquaint himself with her body, "I've been away far too long from you. And I want to make up for lost time."

The rest of the night was all about the here and now. Never mind what hazy dreams and forgotten memories held: He had spent far too much of his life looking backwards, with regret and anger and shame and resentment. The future was all that mattered.

Twelve years ago, the once-exiled and dishonoured renegade prince of the Fire Nation never would have thought he could have a happily-ever-after. But today, he had his kingdom, his throne, and his honour. He was surrounded by people who loved him and trusted him; loyal subjects, friends, a mentor and father, children, and most important of all, a life partner in Katara.

He loved his life now. And as long as he had his beloved wife by his side, he intended to enjoy every day of it until the bittersweet end.

* * *

_**THE END.**_

* * *

**I'm sad to say this is the end of the "trilogy" that started with one crazy idea that hit me in the shower _(The Ho'Wan Island Carnival) _to the gruelling sequel _(Bent)_, and which winded to the side with little drabbles including _Deathly _and _As the World Falls Down._**

**_Captured! The Zutara Musical_ was written as a kind of parody to this story, but it's a fairly different tale. If you have nothing better to do, check it out: maybe it'll give you a giggle.**

**I must depart the fanfiction world for a time while I work on some original fiction. All the encouragement and practice I've received working here has propelled me to try to complete and submit a Harlequin novel, which I've set myself to finish for the end of the year. ****I know I said I'd take requests and try to finish them; some of them are harder to suss out than I'd anticipated. I'll see what I can do, but not gurantees: I'm pretty tapped out.**

**Wish me luck: and if you want to be a beta reader for some trashy romance, e-mail me! **

**Best Wishes and Fishes,**

**Vicki So.**


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